A Peerless Knight
by Maridia
Summary: AU elements/ideas. Lacey Drake is a hardworking young woman who strives to perform her very best in any task, but leaves little wiggle room for a personal life, yet one morning will change everything. Human female x Sangheili male.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

 _(Edited: 4/14/2017)_

I like my life just fine. It isn't an overly exciting prospect, getting up every morning. Going to work, finishing up assignments, heading home…going through all those check points.

It's a common living, maybe a bit mundane—but nothing special. I follow the same day-by-day trend. Dawn comes with a large hairy dog on my feet, I wiggle out from under said dog, and then I stumble to the bathroom to brush my teeth—whilst avoiding being tripped by that same dog (with little success).

My big lovable mutt, Clover, named for those eerily bright green eyes she likes to penetrate me with, jumps up off the bed in pursuit as I rush to get ready for work. I wouldn't call myself a dog person, realistically I have only owned her for about a year; I haven't reached the point of keeping an obsessive dog themed photo album, or blogging about her quite yet.

Once I had finally left my mom's house and moved into a proper apartment after graduating with a college degree, my mom had stubbornly insisted that I get a dog, or I'd be 'lonely'.

She said that, or a man. So the dog thing kinda happened.

It isn't like I am hugely against being in a relationship, I just feel that a boyfriend and such commitments would take away from my goals. One day I'm going to get promoted, maybe publish an article on the front page. It's a start. Then I can have all the things my mom said we could never have when I was growing up…and probably start a family once life was stable.

I knew what I wanted from an early age, and I sought to keep myself on the right path. That meant no boyfriends, no drama, and no early kids. I had witnessed girls in high school get pregnant, and I have a friend named Emily who had also gotten herself into that situation. She, and those other women, had to put their lives, their dreams, whatever goals they had, on hold. Even when they insisted that they would go to school again after the baby was born, it mostly never happened.

That frightened me. Emily seems like a happy mother, and she had regularly sent me pictures in college before we had a falling out…but I didn't want that, I don't want that.

At least not yet.

My mom raised me alone, and told me regularly how hard it was as a single mother. Her stories, her ideas, her love and values set my own roots and ideals into concrete. She couldn't afford college for me, working double-time as a waitress and a hotel clerk, and I wouldn't have asked her to pay my way. Mom worked hard for me, and I have to work hard for myself, and for my hard work throughout high school I received grants that saw me through to college.

In high school I was the president of my student council and listed in the yearbook as 'most-likely-to-succeed', and was eagerly befriended by girls who practically begged me to help them finish papers so they could graduate on time. Once I was in college I was a workaholic, and turned in my assignments early just to save time, and when I wasn't studying I was writing, which was work in itself.

I never seem to have enough time. Working hard, working up to any goal…it is almost an addiction. I worked, and I work now like I drink coffee, which is enough to probably be considered unhealthy.

While other students in college were partying with their friends, hosting book clubs, going to frat parties or working through their complicated relationships, I had set apart specific call times with my mom (so she would know I was still alive), kept a strict schedule that correlated with classes, and studied every one of my subjects with as much dedication I could muster.

And believe me, I mustered a lot of it. Dedication I mean.

And now I'm in the process of getting ready for work with a dog that doesn't know a 'down' from a 'heel.'

"Clover, down!" I walk-hop into the bathroom with my big dumb sweet dog trying to knock me over with her flag like tail. Clover is being overly insistent that she has to receive a satisfactory amount of attention to keep her from barking up a storm in my absence. This event usually results in my neighbors leaving angry messages for me at work.

Which I don't appreciate. Not to mention it's immature, (don't these people work?) and, seriously, am I the only dog person on the block?

Have I even established that I'm a dog person yet? I'm not sure as I nearly choke on my toothbrush, sending white fluff flying into my mirror as Clover decides to try jumping onto my back randomly.

My toothbrush clatters into the sink and I move to retrieve it, wiping foamy toothpaste off onto the back of my hand. 

After I rinse out my mouth I smile toothily into the mirror, still trying to determine if I have gotten rid of the coffee and tea stains I've accumulated over the years. Not quite…

I sigh, at the small brown mark on my front tooth. It isn't that noticeable, I think. Maybe a little, ugh, of course no amount of pandering to my perfectionist mindset will persuade me otherwise.

Once I'm done self-evaluating myself, as most women seem to do on a whim nowadays, I brush my wild hair down, dress, and head downstairs with my faithful dog companion in tow, holding onto the banister of the stairs to ensure I don't flop down the rest of the way thanks to Clover's pushy nose that is now practically lodged up my butt.

I basically jog to the kitchen to get a head start, and I hear the clicking clacking of Clover's nails on the wood floor in close pursuit, and I know that she's hoping it's a hash brown or bacon sort of morning.

It's neither one of those, because I forgot to go grocery shopping again and after a few minutes of searching the fridge, I'm faced with an English muffin on a large clean white plate. It looks very unfulfilling, small even for a muffin, but it's what I have. I slip some butter between the slit I cut and press down with the knife so the butter melts faster. I can hear Clover's soft whines from under the table when she realizes she isn't getting her way.

I push the muffin into my mouth, jumping up from the table, uncertain as to why I sat down to begin with, and run to get my shoes. Clover usually hides them under the hollow of the stairs or on the loveseat. I think she is playing a game, or she's smarter than I think and notices I don't tend to leave the house without them.

She isn't successful in prolonging my stay, and I find them under the stairs in clear sight. Clover tries to grab them from me but I hold them up, clicking my tongue at her, "No."

And then I'm off—out the door, and heading down the street. I immediately set off towards the Lacoste café to grab a quick coffee before work. The café is delightfully old fashioned, and the walls are covered in floral and architectural paintings from around the world. It's usually pretty busy, filled with chatter, so not the best place to perfect work assignments, but the coffee is definitely worth the wait in line.

When I enter the building, the door's bell sounds off to announce my entrance. As I wait in line I inhale the smoky sweet scent of the coffee beans being grinded. I swear I can get the caffeine effect just by scent alone. In front of me an old women is busy typing a message away in her communicator, and being nosy, I can't help but stare out over her shoulder.

I notice it is the newest model of Ugo, and my own phone suddenly feels heavy in my pocket. Like old Earth heavy, with the flip screen. Ugo is the top provider of communication devices and even entertainment media in the world right now. They just set up a deal with the UEF military even to supply their technology to soldiers.

I could probably afford a new phone but it would take some saving, and I already need to buy a new washing machine. I don't find much pleasure in washing my clothes down the street at the coin laundry.

Mom tells me that these days, everything costs more. The economy is in shambles. I don't understand it, well, I'm no economist but it's like the after effects of the war are lingering still, even after so much time. I guess time doesn't heal all wounds.

My mind wanders as it tends to do far too often, and I don't realize I am up in line until a young girlish voice says, "Move up, please."

I blush on an impulse and tilt my chin down and some hair falls over one brow, a habit from when I was a shy child. I correct my posture and step up the counter and I order my usual—an iced caramel latte, whipped cream, and a shot of expresso.

Soon I'm walking to the tram with my beverage to grab a seat before the cars fill up. I'm surprised when I find one, several actually. It's odd, because Mondays are usually havoc on the tram system. Hugging the seat with the shared effort of my legs and butt squeezing the cushion under me, I sip my drink quickly before the motion causes it to spill in excess all over my skirt.

It's not as crowded today, why is that? It's too quiet. More aware of my surroundings I look up, holding firmly onto my drink as the tram begins to shuffle off, and I see why that is the case.

I see him sitting across the aisle, leaning onto a side window, staring down at the data pad in his meaty grip. He notices my gaze, powerfully aware as most of his kind seems to be, and I give him a gentle smile, making sure to keep my mouth closed. In his culture, or so I heard from somewhere, certain smiles have different meanings. I don't know exactly what a full-teeth smile will do, so better safe than sorry.

The ape like man, impossibly large, but probably an on-average size for his species, gives me a look I can't decipher, and tucks his chin again to continue reading whatever it is on his device.

I excuse his awkward reaction by distracting myself in my drink, licking the whipped cream off the top. I love a morning coffee, but I just hope it doesn't make me have to pee before I get to work. Coffee has a way of doing that to people, and I don't have time to be sidelined. Not today.

I still have plenty of time, but it's a new day. New boss. New changes. I once again, am not entirely sure if that is a good thing, but I try to remain positive. It's all I can do.

Ugh, I should not be drinking coffee right now.

I am beginning to feel the caffeine's effect on my psyche, and I'm regretting that expresso shot. My fingernails click away on the moist plastic cup.

Coffee is usually a feel good drink, but combined with my already growing anxiety, it is a mistake in the making.

My office buddy, and overall best friend, Leanne Drexler, messaged me over the weekend that our boss had been replaced on short notice. I don't tend to enjoy changes to my daily schedule so I freak out more than the average person. Leanne tells me I need to relax, but it feels like an impossible task to me.

I flex my shoulders, feeling the tension settling in. Yeah, caffeine is making me extra twitchy today.

 _He's couldn't be worse than Rob Leeson. That guy was such a sleaze._ One day I had water splash onto my shirt from a faulty water dispensary. He had been more than happy to assist by getting up into my chest with too few napkins, pushing past Leanne who had already been ready to help me out. In the workplace I'm not sure any guy is supposed to get that close to a woman's chest, much less put his hands all over it. I'm sure that could fall under sexual harassment, but I never pushed it. I couldn't sideline my goals, and it was harmless, though a bit aggravating to recall.

Several times I had to break off conversations and make excuses because I was certain that he was going to try and ask me out. I didn't want to jeopardize my workplace environment when I rejected him, and nothing outside or inside that man was attractive to me.

When I think about it, he was probably the reason I never seemed to profit from my hard work. He wanted to keep me a cute and smiley front-desk secretary instead of the published community figure that I wanted to be. I feel like an intern somedays, underpaid and underappreciated. Which wholly puts my lifetime goals into question.

Bastard.

I suck hard through the straw of my iced coffee and blink at the ugly sucking sound it makes, suddenly aware that my coffee supply is dwindling to just ice. I can feel the alien man staring at me, and I blush involuntarily again.

 _Get it together._

Fifteen minutes go by, give or take, and I'm walking down the tram's sidewalk towards my work in the distance. As I walk along I think about the only other occupant of my car…well aisle, on the tram. There had been another car attached with an open doorway, but that side had been stocked full, my section however, had consisted of only me and the man.

The jiralhanae man.

Were people still so intimidated by them? We had lived together for well over two hundred years now on our own home planet of Earth, and people are still afraid to just sit in the same tram car together. The war had happened long ago…but when I remember the war vids I had seen in history class, I suppose I could imagine why they are still so afraid.

More than one person had to be excused from my tenth grade class because of the amount of gore shown. It had been psychologically sickening to watch. One girl had even thrown up in the hallway before it was halfway over. Me being the self-righteous protector of the student body, had to take it up to the school board, horrified by the graphic warfare we were forced to watch. The principal and the board had insisted, however, that it was necessary that we understand the past, no matter how dark and unpleasant it was, to preserve our own future.

The fanatical religion that caused the war had died out long ago, so just how long would it take people to get past this? Someone could argue that because I hadn't lived during the war, that I could never understand what it had been like, with all those billions of lives lost. They're probably right, but I was raised to be fair and pleasant. I just can't feel indifferent to other people, or to other races.

It goes against my values as a person, and what I was raised to believe. Mom had never knew her own mother, having been raised in the foster care system, perhaps that was why she had no tragic family history to coincide with. She raised me to believe that everyone should be treated with respect, and that we are all on this big blue ball of a planet together, for better or for worst.

As an optimistic I also have to believe that everything will be alright, that we can all coexist. I have to try.

And hopefully the same can be said of whoever is going to be replacing my boss. _Optimism!_

No matter my opposition to my doubts, though, the anxiety is back again, and I try to get past it as I stroll by a trash canister, chucking my empty cup into the recycle section. I try and straighten up as I walk, flattening the crinkles in my gray plaid skirt, while making sure the buttons of my red top are in place.

I have to look professional, organized. Ready for a new day. I straighten the purse strap on my shoulder, and I brighten my face with a smile.

 _New boss. New opportunities. I've got this._

In my earlier hesitation I don't hear the approaching footsteps until they're right on me. I turn my head, and then my body to one side to allow the jiralhanae man to pass. He tilts his head towards me a bit as he walks by, gives me a look, and then he smiles through his pale scruffy beard.

He's so much taller than me, than any human man even. Big shoulders, arms with muscles rippling underneath, his arms and legs like tree trunks. His features are just as big.

I stare, unblinking, at his large smile. His teeth are slightly yellow, and as I stare at his massive pointed canines. An image of a snarling tiger fills my brain.

I remember to breathe again when he has already passed me by, all too aware that I probably looked like an exceedingly stupid deer in headlights. Ugh, I probably came off as quite rude too. I just can't win.

I walk, remembering to step over the huge pothole that no one has filled yet in my path (one of these days that will kill me) and I silently berate myself as I make the rest of the way to my workplace.

I continue on my way at a brisker pace. I like to arrive at least twenty minutes before work so I can get an early start on my day and pop into Leanne's cubicle for a quick social before the work haul.

I pass many people on my way, just the usual thick slough of city life. Distracted as I usually get on the way to work, I watch a few pigeons land between two parked cars to fight over a french fry.

I continue across the street and find myself alone on this line of sidewalk, and before I move past a wide alleyway, I hear it. A long threatening hissing sound. With a twist of movement my purse strap slips down my arm as I tilt on my heels. I catch the strap as I spin in place to see what had made the sound. Not the smartest decision, but like I said before, I'm more of a deer-in-headlights sort of girl.

Leaning against a garbage canister sits a ragged looking kig-yar. He shows me his dagger sharp teeth, in a menacing looking grimace. His wild yellow eyes express something that feels utterly malevolent as they burn into mine. The natural, and attractive feathers that most of his kind wear proudly are tattered and untidy on his head; the feathers ruffled and displaced. His teeth are chipped, a few brown and rotting. He's a few feet away, but his breath is still detectable.

It doesn't smell nice. It's like rotting with a tinge of sour. I think I may even throw up if I don't relocate myself pronto.

I resume walking, quickly, trying to create distance between us as fast as possible, not because of his dead breath but because of that scary smile, which probably wasn't a smile at all, but what do I know? I really need to check my references.

I try and ease out calm, even breaths as I continue on my way. Am I acting racist, having had two panic attacks over two different aliens in one day? I hope not. I don't mean to. I'm lost in my thoughts, so I don't feel the heavy pressure on my back until it sends me crashing to the ground.

I fall hard onto one shoulder, and there's pain as it connects with hard stone, and I choke out a gasp as the air is knocked out of me. There's a sudden scraping sound of my bag against the sidewalk and a sudden burning pain lights up in my arm as I reflexively reach for it. My fingers twitch, there's pain. I can feel warm blood running down my wrist, staining my hand.

" _Vai Took, Human._ " I look up from the clawed feathery hand digging into my skin, and into the crazy kig-yar's mad yellow eyes, " _Vaitook!"_

 _What is he saying?_

He shoves me over, onto my back, and I feel his clawed fingers fidgeting at the black purse strap trapped under my shoulder. So that's his motive. I'm faintly aware of the sounds of shouts and cries of alarm all around me, but I can't turn away from my assaulter. I can smell his breath and I choke back nausea as he closes in on my face, repeating those alien words again. Drool runs down his jowls and I blink as wetness drops onto my cheek, and I'm much too afraid to feel disgusted.

I'm terrified that he's going to tear my throat out. He looks crazy enough to be capable of biting into me like some sort of rabid beast. I can't move, I don't try to move away, or shield myself. I'm petrified, and I can't will my body to move. _Why can't I move?_ I can't even toss my bag at him, hoping he will just take it and go away.

But I don't have to, because suddenly, inexplicably, he is gone, and there is only the terrible stinging sensation where his claws had been digging into my arm. I clasp a hand there, feeling warm blood sinking into the spaces between my fingers. There is movement above me, and shadows dance the ground. I look up and see clawed feet hanging over me, kicking furiously.

The kig-yar who had tried to mug me and possibly cause some further damage was hanging freely in the air. I gaze up with wide eyes, sucking in air with fast uneven breaths. Unbelieving.

Somehow I'm meeting my third alien today. All in one morning.

He's tall, pretty close to the jiralhanae's height, broad shouldered, but sleeker, and more slender than burly. His legs look strong, but are backwards looking—and his weight is planted on two large toes. He wears what looks like a short black robe with a dark brown hem. There are long slits on the sides that probably allow his uniquely shaped legs freer movement. Overlapping cloth, a thin armor, bronze in color, covers him in many places, from a helm like head to sock like coverings on his rounded toes.

There's something distinctly knightly about him. He looks as if he had traveled from some sort of distant era…like some ancient alien warrior. He's almost dashing with that armor on—alien or not—wearing something no human man today would be caught wearing dead outside of a history convention…and he saved me.

 _He saved me._

I watch, wordlessly, still on my back, as the kig-yar kicks his legs about madly trying to escape his captor. I hear clapping footsteps, and I can see human men in blue and white police attire approach from both sides, all humans, with stun pistols out.

The alien, the sangheili, flexes his arm, muscles rippling fluid under his mocha brown skin, and the kig-yar spasms and splutters out saliva, hissing between his teeth, arms flailing to try and detach the large four-fingered hand from around his neck. I can see a muscle in the sangheili's arm spasm slightly again and I know he is increasing his grip.

Suddenly the sangheili makes a low rumbling growl and the other alien drops from his grip. Air slips from my lips in a sigh. I had been holding my breath, almost certain he had meant to kill the other alien. The now freed, and gasping kig-yar, is promptly seized up by officers, and lets out a screeching yowl as one of them shocks him in the side with a stunner. I watch as they cuff him and yank the now weakly struggling alien away to a lit cruiser.

"He attacked the female." I can't help but turn to stare. His voice, the sangheili's, is a rich baritone, warm, _exotic_ even with a pleasing accent. I don't understand how he can form words so beautifully with his four mandibles, but somehow it works. I hold onto his words, breathless, only half aware of the human hands reaching for me, asking if I'm okay.

Suddenly he crouches before me, his large legs keeping everyone else at bay, and the officers step aside to make room for him. He's a giant compared to the human men, but he outright towers over me. I look up, gaze into his face, and I can see rows of fearsome fangs on his four mandibles, but I don't linger here, nor do I feel fear at the sight of them. Instead I'm lost in his bright almond shaped eyes, deep brown. Like chocolate covered coffee beans.

Ok, I may need to get off the coffee eventually.

"Female..." He pauses as if thinking, "Err—miss, you are safe now." He is speaking to me and I feel like I have forgotten how to talk, staring up at him like some lost child, "Can you stand?" He asks me.

I only slip out of my daze when he reaches out to me with slender, but huge, nail-less fingers. He could easily wrap them around my head, they're so large. How are all these aliens so much bigger than we are? I blink rapidly, fingers playing over my shoulder nervously, but I manage to stand. He seems satisfied, and the hand retreats, as does the rest of him.

He breaks out of his crouch and stands straight up, towering over me even as I gain my feet. I'm left with my eyes connecting to his chest, and I stare at the girl trapped in the reflection of his bronze chest plate. I barely recognize the woman as being me. She looks so lost, her hair is a mess, and her blouse is torn—he had even pulled a few buttons.

 _I can't go to work like this._

It's like a switch flips off in me and suddenly I'm moving to gather my purse, dropping it twice in my confusion before finding my grip, and I'm walking away, towards the building in the distance, and my cubicle, and Leanne, and my new boss who is going to see me on time.

Don't panic, there's still time. Oh please let there still be time. What time is it?

"Wait, miss!" I hear a human man yell out but it's like I'm in a daze. I only stop at a wobbly stumble when a shadow eclipses me and I see my reflection again, this time the girl's eyes are doe-wide, and she has this dumb confused look on her face.

"Female." The sangheili rumbles again. _Why can't a man's voice always sound this good?_ "Your people must attend to you. You're hurt. Your face is bleeding."

My fingers play over my cheeks and up, and I can feel a wetness and sudden burning above my right brow. Of course, the little fucker also cut up my face.

My frustration breaks my silence, "I have to go. I need to get to work." My words slur together, I feel dazed, anxious. Stupid coffee.

 _What time is it? I can't be late, not today…_

"Miss, please, we need you to wait here." A man wearing a crisp police uniform, his black hair brushed over his ears steps up to me, "You're going to have to fill out a report. A medical team is on the way."

I feel my rapid chest breaths falling in defeat as I gain lucidity, as if I'm a balloon that is losing air. This wasn't how my day was supposed to be. I had it all planned out, it just isn't fair. I can't miss today. A new boss, who is going to think I don't care about my job enough to even show up! I feel the pain in my arm increasing where the kig-yar had cut me, but that doesn't contend much with the headache that is growing as I stumble away.

My morning sails by in flickers of memory, and I remember the fangs of the jiralhanae, the blazing eyes of the kig-yar, the stench of rotting breath, wicked teeth, grasping hands. I see a panicked face in a distorted mirror. My heart is a thunder beat in my ears. I gasp. I don't see anything, I'm in a blind panic, but I feel something like warm leather. I feel the sangheili's fingers as he gently grasps me by my shoulders, holding me still as I hear a siren sound off behind me and human faces peering around him. They're speaking but I can't hear them. It's like their voices are bouncing off an invisible bubble around me, and I can only feel the vibrations.

I can't breathe.

My world is moving in quick transitions from one scene to another. I can see faces fading past me in the lights of the ambulance, voices speaking calmly over a beeping monitor. I am made to lie back. My back presses onto a cool sheet, a cushion is forced under my neck. An oxygen mask is pushed over my mouth and nose. I tremble as my skin tightens around the stick of a needle in my arm. A breathy sigh slips out. There's a cold sensation, as the fluid from the needle runs under my skin in an icy stream.

 _What's happening to me?_

The bright lights are dim, fuzzy haloes, and I try and blink a few times to clear them away, but my eyelids are heavy. Colors are too saturated, and shadows flicker in the corners of my vision. I'm slipping, free falling out of my own body, and my breath outraces my heartbeat.

I feel weighted down, and then time stops altogether, and everything, all sensation, and my whole world, disappears as I hit an impenetrable darkness.

 **AN: I wrote this randomly, experimenting with present tense mostly, but it went somewhere. Honestly, I'm only half sure where I'm going with this…so not sure how long this story will be, but it's definitely going to be romantic with maybe a future smut scene. Definitely an AU too, not that confidant about overall Halo facts yet, so lots of entitlement here.**

 **Pairing because…I really enjoy alien x human pairings, but with the human as exclusively female. Not enough of that on this archive…we girls need a little alien love too you know! ^_^**

 **Review if you like and tell me what you think. Not sure how long an update will take, but feedback will certainly help. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

A flurry of confusing images fade from a quickly forgotten dream and my eyelids twitch before I finally force them open, only to clamp them shut again the bright light.

"Miss Drake?" A woman's voice.

I turn my head towards the sound and force my eyes open again. The room is bright, a clean sterile white-room sort of bright. I'm mistaken as my eyes adjust. The room has a unique ugly green-blue coloring on the window side.

I'm in a hospital bed, with a machine stationed to my right diligently beeping away. There's a needle lodged into my arm, I quickly look away, my heart picks up a beat. I really hate needles.

A woman with chestnut curls stacked atop her head and a nurse's tunic approaches my bedside.

"Hello." She greets me with surprising warmth, a friendly smile on her face. I don't find myself in hospitals very often, so I've always imagined nurses as being cold and to the point. This kind of environment, with all the scary machines, needles, and rooms with warnings plastered all over them, it's hard to not feel that way.

I shudder slightly, thinking about the needle in my arm like some sort of little bug with its teeth clamped on. My obvious discomfort is noticed by the nurse and she asks, "How are you feeling? Any pains?"

I'm suddenly aware of it, and I feel an ugly grimace coming on. The pain is not intense, but it's there. A slightly burning, but mostly pulsing pain in my arm. I'm more worried about what it looks like, but when I drop the sheet off my arm all I see are bandages.

"What happened to me?" I ask, because I don't know. All I remember is being thrown to the ground by a crazy looking kig-yar and almost having my purse stolen. I'm not one to just randomly pass out, or be over dramatic in general.

Which is why I'm feeling a rising nausea as the nurse scans the machine to my right. I know it's brought on by my own anxiety, but what if something is wrong with me? What if I have some sort of terminal illness that they've only just now discovered? I don't have checkups as often as I should.

Oh please, god, no. I've accomplished nothing yet. _Nothing._

The nurse doesn't speak for a moment, but instead presses a device hanging from her neck. It looks like a button that has a gray wire that wraps around her neck like an ugly necklace. Another smaller wire is attached under her ear. She holds it up to her mouth, "Dr. Towa, Lacey Drake is awake. She has some questions."

With that she lets the communicator drop back onto her chest and scans the machine to my left, "Alright Miss Drake, Dr. Towa will pay you a visit soon, he's your doctor. He can answer any questions you have."

"Am I sick?" _Like dying sick?_ I sit up as my chest is rocked by coughing. My mouth feels too dry.

The nurse retreats for a moment and I hear running water. Soon after she is at my side again and easing me up to take a drink from a small plastic cup. I manage to take in most of it and I lay back onto a too-stiff pillow.

She smiles, "Well, your vitals are giving healthy readings, but Dr. Towa will be better able to explain the situation."

That's some relief. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." I feel a pang of loneliness that surprises me when the nurse turns to leave, her steps echoing down the hall. I wish Clover was here with me. I miss that big silly dog.

I want to go home. Hospitals always freak me out. I'm trying to be patient but my fingernails are practically putting holes into the fuzzy blanket under my chest.

I start a bit as a man suddenly walks into my room, clipboard in hand. He has dark skin that contrasts even darker with his white clothes. His scalp is hidden beneath a blue medical hairnet, as if he had just come out of a surgery. He smiles at me in a clinical sort of way, the warmth not quite reaching his eyes.

"Miss Drake? How are you this evening?"

What? _Oh no._ "This evening?" I choke out, "But it was morning!" I can feel that ugly redness flushing warm across my face again as I realize my outburst was quite loud.

He's not looking at me, but at his papers. "The poison in your bloodstream caused you to lose consciousness, you've just woken up." I sit there, stunned, as he flips a page in his clipboard, "There's no lasting damage, so you'll be ready to go as soon as you feel up to it. I know you've suffered a traumatic experience and you're probably still in shock."

"Poison?" My voice is small, nervous. When was I poisoned? _Oh damn it, was it the coffee?_

"Yes, but we got it all. You're going to be just fine." The doctor smiles a real smile, probably relieved he won't have to break any bad news, and yes, I'm happy about that too. I feel a smile take over my face in relief.

I'm going to live! _Thank goodness._ I breathe in softly, and then I move my arm, flinch, and I remember the blasted needle.

"Can you get this thing out of me?" I ask him, practically pleading, and he notices the way I'm holding my arm out as if I want to cast it away from the rest of my body. I know I can sound childish, squeamish, but I really _really_ hate needles.

"Let's finish up first." He rearranges his papers and pulls one free. I watch, trying to ignore the needle in my arm as he pulls a chair up to sit at my bedside, "The poison was a crude but potent mixture that rogue kig-yar have been painting on their nails. He's currently in holding, but there's an officer in the lobby who wants to have a word with you once you're ready to leave."

"Wait, so it's normal for them to go around poisoning people? Why not use guns or something?" Now that I think about it, the whole attack had been unexpected in more ways than one. It had also happened in broad daylight.

"The kig-yar was brought in earlier because he had suffered a seizure not long after he was arrested. Just an observation, but from his appearance and health exam, he was probably homeless, desperate, I'm sure he was also a bit mentally unstable. The officer overseeing him told me he was biting at his own hands."

I sit up a bit in bed, trying to stretch out my legs. I wince at a cramp in my hip, yeah, definitely been in here too long, "Is he okay?" I don't know why I ask, but I do.

"Yes, but he'll be suffering for it. Unlike you, he's going to have some hives to itch while incarcerated. The poison is apparently more potent against his own kind. It's the acid group." The doctor smiled genuinely, "I'm sure it's the least he deserves."

I bend my legs over the side of the bed, moving carefully with the IV wire slack in one unsteady hand. Both legs are tingling as I place my feet and some of my weight onto the cold floor.

"I'll fetch some attendants to see you out comfortably," Doctor Towa says, "Have a nice night, and be more cautious about where you're walking." He leaves the room and I realize with no small amount of irritation that he left the needle in. Gee, thanks doc.

I wish I could teleport home.

Fortunately, I didn't have long to wait because hear footsteps in the hall. My tense shoulders slacken in relief when I watch two nurses walk into my room, one pushing a wheelchair with a small quilt like blanket in the seat.

"Hey sweetie." The older nurse coos. She has kind green eyes, and a face full of freckles. "We're going to get you all settled and out of here in no time." The woman turns to the younger nurse who acts a little nervous with how she holds herself, actively nibbling on her bottom lip. "Karen, go unhook her for me."

The other nurse, who is probably new here, moves to unfasten me from the machine. She hesitates with my arm and I feel the urge to moan aloud in complaint, but I'm relieved when I finally feel the pressure in my arm free up.

They help to get me out of bed and seat me and I'm surprised at how dizzy and unsteady I am. My neck feels like it's full of jelly and my legs are trembling with every step. I hope this doesn't last long, but my luck I probably won't be able to walk straight tomorrow. _Ugh, tomorrow._

One step at a time. I'll worry about tomorrow when it comes, I just have to get out of here, pronto.

Soon enough I'm being wheeled down the hall, bright lights flashing overhead as we zoom forward. I have to close my eyes at the almost nauseating effect the lights have on me and I'm certain I'll be resting the rest of the night from the aftereffects of the medicine.

Leanne is probably worried sick, she knows I'd much rather cut off a finger than miss work. I still can't believe I missed my first day of work…with a new boss no less.

When I'm in the elevator only half listening to the two nurses making conversation with each other, I'm suddenly thinking back to earlier that day. I stare at the floor numbers as we go down…12, 11, 10—as my mind returns to this morning.

That kig-yar had been downright terrifying, I still can't believe I was almost mugged, much less poisoned. When I try and visualize what happened, I can piece together images, like shots in a film, but they're still so unclear. Mismatched. I don't remember if I had my coffee with me at the time, or if I had tried to fight back at all, even if I had screamed. All I do remember is the one who stopped it. He's the only clear image in my mind.

I quirk my lips into a small smile when I remember how he had loomed over me like some noble warrior, his armor shining in the sun. My life isn't this way, not usually. I'm not a damsel in distress who gets rescued by aliens in armor, or anyone for that matter. Drama isn't something that happens to me.

I had never been so terrified in all my life, the closest other event I can recall is when my mom choked on a rice ball when I was a kid and I had thought she was going to keel over on me. That's as much drama as I have had to deal with, except for some stress caused by my own compulsiveness.

I remember the sangheili now. How huge he was, his muscular arms, those strange but powerful looking legs, his two big round toes that I found oddly cute. Those scary mandibles, those brown-brown eyes. I remember his voice and I involuntarily shiver.

Oh please say I'm not crushing on him like some weirdo. Is it weird to be attracted to him, I mean his voice? Oh gosh.

"We're here." The nurse says, and I jump a little in my seat. I realize that we're in the lobby now, and I look around at the ugly green chairs and couches nearby. There's also a long metal table between them stacked full of magazines. She parks me in front of the table right next to the couch.

"Thanks." I say.

"You're welcome." It's the older nurse, the other one had disappeared somewhere. She gives me a generous smile, dimples popping up on her face. I think of Leanne randomly at the sight of them, she hates her dimples. She calls them 'craters', "Officer Calvin is speaking with another officer outside." She tells me, "He'll be back soon. You have a good long rest sweetheart, I'm sorry you had a bad morning."

Officer… of course. That report, I can't get home any slower can I? "Thanks, me too." I say and she walks off and I'm left sitting in the wheel chair by a puke green sofa. I notice a teenager in a chair nearby, with legs folded up onto the cushion, holding her arms under her knees. She looks bored.

I'm feeling bored too, not five minutes later with no sign of any police officer. An unpleasant tingling headache is starting to come alive in a tight band across my forehead and I groan aloud. I'm not sure how much longer I'll be kept waiting, feeling this miserable, when a voice disrupts my thoughts again.

"Hey, you're that girl on the news." A girl says and I look at the cute, but heavily pierced young woman to my right. Her feet are on the ground now and she is leaning forward with interest.

Wait, girl on the news? Oh no, there's no way. No way.

"He clawed your face up good, huh?" The girl continues in a voice that's irritatingly loud. My head still hurts—my face? Oh yeah…

I touch my forehead and I wince at the shock of pain there. Forgot about that one, "Yeah." I say, because I have to say something. It's rude to just ignore it, even though it's not the most welcome voice in the world (what is with this headache?), "What do you mean by news?"

The girl looks surprised and plants her elbows on her knees, head leaning onto her hands, "Oh, you don't know? You were on the news earlier. The attempted mugging? Must have been scary, those aliens are super creepy."

 _And your voice is super annoying._ Wow where did that thought come from? Nasty. Ugh my head is killing me. I'm not rude usually, oh but I need to lie down. Where is this guy at?

Fortunately I glance at the glass doors to the lobby and I see a man in police uniform walking towards me in a long stride and I stand up from the chair, feeling surprisingly less wobbly than before. I wish the headache would disappear too.

He ended up asking me to tell the whole story, in as much detail as I could recall. I told him I could only remember so much, but once I had told the same story to him twice, he had let me check out.

I hadn't needed the wheelchair anymore and had practically skipped out the door before I realized I was insanely tired. One cab ride later and I was lying face down on my couch with a very happy dog bouncing off the cushion behind me.

I should have called Leanne and told her what had happened and asked about what I was missing, who the new boss was, etc., but instead I just flopped onto the couch for the next few hours, woke up at nine o'clock to eat a grilled cheese sandwich, and passed out on my bed for the night.

I could have regretted that decision, as nothing would prepare me for what was to be my tomorrow.

The hallways are cluttered with people who are pushing carts full of computer equipment and folders, accompanied by uniformed officers. I don't understand what's going on. I also don't expect to turn into my cubicle and see Leanne sitting on my desk, but there she is.

She practically leaps off the table and a binder skids off onto the floor as she pulls me into a hug. My face is swallowed up in her blonde hair, and I smell a distinct pear scent as I listen to her spazz in my ear. "I saw the news, are you okay Lace? I called like four hospitals looking for you, it's a good thing you don't leave your mother as a contact or she would have flown down and kidnapped you."

I manage to pull away, "I'm fine, I was at Highland Memorial. Where are they taking our computers?" My desk is totally blank actually. I would have freaked out and thought they had fired me if I hadn't walked by a lot of cleaned out cubicles.

Leanne's big blue eyes are huge when she's excited, but now they look ready to pop out of her face, "We're under an investigation, I mean, can you believe it? You get mugged—well almost, and now we're in a crime scene. Freaky, right?"

"What?"

"Yeah, they came in yesterday morning, there was so much excitement, and I didn't think about where you were, because they had us working all morning. We were released at lunch. I had to go through so many files. You remember when I called you about Leeson? Well, I didn't know what had happened, but a corporate head met with us yesterday—you won't believe what happened…it's crazy, seriously insane."

I'm hanging onto every word, taking it in stride.

"What?" I ask, because Leanne is practically hopping up and down and I know she won't say a word until I say something.

"Someone got to Leeson." She leaned in as if wanting to whisper, but she just spoke louder, in excitement, "Those suits who came in, they are still investigating his death, but it's murder.

Murdered? Someone _murdered_ my boss? Why would someone kill Leeson? He's an idiot and a pervert but that's nothing to kill over. "How?"

This time she did talk in a whispery voice that reminded of one used when telling ghost stories. Of course, this could legitimately be one of those, "They found him in an alley on 3rd Street." Of course, an alley. I feel uneasy. My morning all over again. "I heard he was beaten to death, like every bone in his body broken. They just had a press release over it, you missed that too."

I'm beginning to feel bad for calling him terrible names in my head for the past year. I'm not perfect, I get angry too. Beaten to death, though, who could be _that_ angry? I'm not sure I want to know. "That's terrible, but who would want to kill Leeson?"

Leanne crosses her arms, frowning, "I don't know. I just hope they got what they wanted. Greg told me that it could have been gang related."

This feels like the most poorly directed crime movie ever, "We work for a news agency over publications; what do we have here that a criminal would want?"

"I don't know, but they must have a clue or something, or they wouldn't be checking all these files." Leanne shrugs, "They even took most of the computers which is scary. Ooh, maybe someone has some juicy story that they don't want getting out in the paper."

"Ms. Drake?" A sound escapes my lips, something cross between an eep and eek and I spin around to face who had spoken. A tall older man with stern squared eyes under thick eyebrows and a pale thin face is standing there looking at me as if he was a vice principal who caught me running in the halls during class.

"That's me." I want to smack myself when my voice squeaks. I'm too sensitive for my own good.

"I'm going to have to ask you a few questions." He doesn't seem to notice my awkwardness, and keeps a calm mask on, his seemingly expressionless face making me feel a little uneasy. "If you will follow me, please." Even the 'please' has a dull tone to it, as if this guy is just reading off a script.

Leanne makes a face at me and waves me away and soon I'm walking with an old man who seems completely apathetic to the world around him. He walks alongside me with his head straight ahead, unspeaking. Soon we're walking down a hall and he's opening a door for me and I step into an unfamiliar room. I decide that it must be the mail room, because down this hall there's only this room and a lobby and it has windows. This room is all walls and nothing else. It's been cleared out completely. I try to hide my unease as the door shuts behind us, and we're alone.

"I understand that you worked personally with Mr. Leeson, is this correct?" He asks me immediately and I'm taken aback.

"What?" I frown, feeling a creeping chill run down my neck. I cross my arms over my chest, "Can you clarify?" _Personally?_ What does he mean by 'personally'?

"Your coworkers said you worked on extra assignments for Mr. Leeson. You've kept files and handled his emails?" His voice sounds almost monotone but I can hear something akin to frustration in his voice that takes me by surprise, "Did he mention anything about his brother, Jake Leeson?"

"Who?" Stupid response, but Rob Leeson has a brother? How would I know? "Uh, no. Never heard of him."

The man's expression seems to darken, lips pursed, the space between his brows a furrowed trench. "This is important Ms. Drake, are you quite certain you don't recall the name, even mentioned in passing?"

"No, he never talked about his family." I say, and I'm beginning to feel as if I'm on trial. Murder my boss? Yeah…I can't even smack a spider without feeling guilty. I feel his dark eyes cutting into mine and I feel the urge to stare at my feet, but I don't want to look guilty, although I know I'm not.

I feel my teeth on my lip, as he stares at me, and I'm waiting for him to say something, anything, and I don't have to wait long.

"My name is Stephen Clint, I'm part of the intelligence department." He holds out a hand and I quickly grab it, not expecting him to introduce himself randomly. His grip is firm, and cool to the touch and we shake hands. "I'm going to share some information with you Ms. Drake that I believe you should be privy to. For your own safety."

Safety? "What do you mean?"

He draws a finger down the side of his nose as if scratching an itch, but his eyes don't look at me. That's not a good sign, he's acting edgy. I feel my heart begin to beat a little faster. Don't panic, just hear what he has to say.

The man draws in a heavy breath, "Leeson's brother was involved in something dangerous. We believe that he stole something valuable to a terrorist organization. Rob Leeson revealed your relationship with him in a message, and this places you in immediate danger."

Time around me creaks to a standstill. I have to force myself to breath evenly. What he says goes through my mind again and again, and I'm trying to make sense of his words, "No." I finally force the word out, voice cracking. Inside I can my fear growing with each rampant rise in my heartbeat, "We were never a thing, I mean, he flirted with me occasionally, but we weren't dating. I didn't like him. I mean, I didn't hate him, I just didn't like him in that way." I'm babbling, but in my dizzying state of fear, I can't do anything else.

This can't be happening to me…not to people like me. I write news articles. I edit papers. This doesn't happen to people that painfully average. I need to sit down, but there's literally nothing in this room but a crushing silence.

My hands feel clammy and I press them flat against my skirt as I wait for him to continue.

"We found messages in his personal email where you were mentioned. He insisted you two were a couple. He sent a picture in a conversation with his brother and suggested that you wanted to keep the relationship quiet while at work, for the sake of keeping professional."

"That's not true!" I blurt out, practically yelling in the empty room. My voice seems to linger before fading, and I realize there are tears rolling down my cheeks when I taste salt, "I'd never date him, he was pushy, and had no boundaries whatsoever. He never respected me as a person or as a peer." Tears are blurring my vision now but I can't stop, "He's lying, he lied. I-I don't know why."

"Ms. Drake." His voice is calm. How can he be so calm? I just want to smack his face, break that cold, composed mask. "Whatever the truth, it doesn't matter now. The damage is done, and whoever murdered Mr. Leeson is very aware of your existence."

My legs are weak, I'm shaking. I could pass out, but instead I hold onto his words like a lifeline, one that is slipping away steadily in my grasp.

"Jake Leeson disappeared five days before Rob Leeson was killed. We believe he has gone into hiding. Your employer had no other family, and we have found no other personal ties to the brother. His girlfriend overdosed several months ago. There's only you."

"What can I do?" I pull the neck of my shirt up to mop at my face, uncaring that this strange man can see my bare stomach. I feel hot, dizzy. This can't be happening, this isn't real, yet tears continue to slip down my face.

This impersonal man squeezes one of my shoulders in a firm, almost comforting grip, his severe looking face creasing into something almost grandfatherly. "If you can remember any details that could be important, I need you to tell me now. Nothing you say will make the situation any worse than it already is."

My heart pit falls. Is it over? Is there nothing more I can do or say that will save me? I can't ask, I can't think about it, "No, there's nothing." My voice is pleading, shaking, "I don't know anything." They're going to kill me.

"Thank you." His voice is sincere but I don't react to him. I'm staring down at my feet, tears cooling on my face, my arms wrapped around myself like a blanket, "Ms. Drake. We won't leave you without protection. There's a volunteer program of sorts, recently funded by the government that will ensure you're taken care of."

I look up. I'm stunned by his words, hopeful.

He continues, "We have a body guard pre-selected, because of the extreme situation. We can allow you to interview some candidates for the job, but I wouldn't recommend the wait. The department has made a good choice, I assure you. He will keep any potential threats away from you and your home."

"A body guard?" I stare at him, teeth roll over my bottom lip and I can taste my spent tears. I'm exhausted, but I try and keep my optimism—my hope. "He'll stay with me?"

"Yes, you'll have to prepare a room for him, but he's the best man for the job. We want you to be protected Ms. Drake, you can trust that we will work hard to keep you safe. He's a professional, and he won't overstep any bounds."

Okay, yeah. I breathe in and out slowly, feeling surer with each breath. A body guard, I won't be alone. I think of Clover then. I hope someone won't try and hurt her. _He can protect both of us_ , "Thank you." I could cry in elation, but I'm tired of crying. I just want to go home and sleep.

The man really smiles for the first time since entering the room and I feel comforted by his change in expression. I take in slow, calm breaths. Everything's going to be alright.

"You're going to take the rest of the day off, we have a lot of work to do here. Your coworkers will be dismissed shortly and you'll all be paid for your time. The government funds investigations into terrorism like this one. Now, I'm going to fetch Kahlo." He releases the hand from my shoulder that I had forgotten was there. That spot feels cold now, "Wait here."

So I wait. I stand in this room feeling as if the very walls are going to cave in on me at any time. It doesn't feel impossible, because I know that because of what my boss has done, because of the lies he had spread, my life is in danger. I can't be alone, and I wait anxiously for someone to walk through that door and take me away from this place.

I can hear footsteps and I take in a deep calming breath as my heart picks up pace. They're back. I correct my slack posture, fingers playing the sides of my skirt nervously as I wait.

The door opens and Clint steps through and I see movement behind him, but it's unclear. Then I see a leg. Wait, an arm? I blink in confusion and then rapidly in recognition when I realize that the man designated as my body guard is ducking under a door that is not quite tall enough to get his whole head through.

Heavy footpads later and he's standing in front of me, no over me, eclipsing me in his shadow. I swallow hard as I look up at him, unbelieving. He's so tall, and he's…

It can't be.

The officer steps to one side, leaving us face to face, well almost. "Ms. Drake, I'd like to introduce you to Kahlo Modem. I understand that he is quite a bit bigger than a human but we can set you two up in another home if you can't find the space."

But that's not a problem, there's actually no problem. It's just the feeling of déjà vu. I'm not sure of its origin until I look into the almost black eyes of my body guard. I scan his armor with flickering searching eyes. It just can't be.

It is. I don't know how I know, but it just has to be…

"Y-you." I say, mouth gaping open, "You were there. You helped me."

The sangheili dips his head to gaze down at me with his glimmering dark eyes, "Yes, I recall you were injured. Do you fair well?"

"Yes!" I can feel a blush painting my cheeks at the outburst, but this is so surreal, "I'm fine, just a few scratches." I don't know why I'm reacting like this. I feel embarrassed, unsteady…confused. He rescued me earlier and now he's going to be my body guard? What are the odds?

The alien flexes his lower mandibles lightly, "That is good to hear." He holds out a large four-fingered hand. It's gray and lightly wrinkled like an elephant skin, "It is a pleasure to meet you Lacey Eliza Drake." I hate my middle name, mom couldn't decide between Lacey and Eliza when I was born so I had to have both. It usually sounds ridiculous, but apparently it sounds really exotic with his accent. I place my hand in his, my absurdly small hand.

I hope he doesn't comment on my face, because I'm pretty sure it's the color of strawberry milk right now. I don't know why I'm so self-conscious around him, maybe because I passed out in front of him yesterday? That's definitely embarrassing. We shake awkwardly, with me mostly twisting my wrist into his huge palm until we separate.

"Kahlo, Modeem right?" I ask.

"Modem." The sangheili says smoothly, and his mandibles do that shrugging motion again, "But you may call me what you wish Lacey Eliza Drake."  
"Uh, just Lacey." A smile quickens on my face, and I feel almost giddy. I'm talking to a sangheili and somehow I'm thrilled about it. I guess there aren't many aliens in the city, at least not here, and he had made quite the impression on me. "May I call you by your first name?" I ask.

"You may Lacey." He says, and I'm pretty sure he is smiling at me, although his mandibles make it hard to tell. He seems pretty friendly and he already saved me once already. Oh this is going to be really awkward isn't it…I hadn't even thanked him properly yet.

Time to remedy that. "Thanks for helping me yesterday, I didn't know where to find you to thank you." I say.

His lower mandibles flex again in an upward angle that I think suggests a smile, "It was by my honor." He replies simply.

I can't help but gaze up at him with fondness. He still wears the thin but hardy looking bronze armor on his shoulders, chest, and legs, but the cloth underneath it is a rich green material with dark blue embroidery. He looks almost noble not only in what he wears but how he holds himself. His stature is confident, shoulders leaned back, head up, yet he looks relaxed. I remember how quickly he had moved to save me from that kig-yar and I don't doubt his abilities.

He's also really tall. I hope he can get around the apartment okay, and around Clover with no trouble. What if she bites him? He is really intimidating to look at and he probably smells way…alien. I'll just have to see what happens.

"You two should head out now." Clint says as he pulls out a communicator from his shirt pocket, "We already have your address Ms. Drake, so we can send Kahlo's things over tonight. In the mean time you can show him your home, and set up an area for him to sleep."

"Yeah, of course." I say quickly, and I feel the sangheili's eyes on me. I feel a fluttering in my chest and I swallow. I'm not afraid of him, just nervous. I'm really hoping that I didn't leave any dirty laundry on the floor again.

"Do not worry Lacey." Kahlo says suddenly, and I look up at him. His eyes latch onto mine and I find I can't look away. "You need not fear. I have trained many years for this and this alone. I will preserve your life. I promise this to you, Lacey Eliza Drake." His voice deepens in his resolve.

I feel honored, a little awkward, maybe even undeserving. The way he spoke, with such dedication…it had the same effect on me that a poem would. He seemed chivalrous, almost romantic in his words. It was hard to believe his species had tried to wipe out my own so long ago.

I didn't know Kahlo but I felt I could trust him. I wanted to trust him. After what he had done for me, he seemed worthy enough, but it was his eyes that I really trusted. I've never really been that intuitive, but I felt like there was a connection between us. When he looked into my eyes, there was this energy to them. He held me in that gaze and I felt there was a promise there, a certainty that calmed me.

"I don't doubt it." I tell him, smiling with my teeth.

He smiles back, a multitude of small fangs glinting in the light, and I'm reminded that I have no idea what sangheili eat. Or what other needs he has…or where he'll sleep. I can't make him sleep on the couch, but what else can I do? Maybe I should buy an air mattress…

All I do know is that I'm tired from the cry I had, and still in shock from all the crazy things that have happened since yesterday morning. I need to get my priorities straight. I also really need to buy some groceries.

I guess this will be a learning experience.

I walk to the door, following after Khalo. He goes through first and steps aside to let me pass and then he is moving alongside me as we make our journey down the hall and towards the stairs. The passersby who come at us from the hall have to edge their way past, ducking under the sangheili's elbow, because Khalo refuses to budge from my side.

As we walk I admire his build. He's not only tall but real broad in the shoulders and has the most amazing looking legs, they're completely backwards looking. His feet are also massive, they're like two size tens in a man's size.

This examination makes it all the more obvious that he's not built to handle my tiny sofa. Barely my own bed which is pretty small for a queen mattress.

 _One step at a time…_ With that thought I start to pay more attention to the stairs I'm about to go down before he has to save me from my own ineptitude. My own klutziness will kill me before someone else does.

I really need to start thinking more positively.

 **Okay, here it is. Almost fifteen pages, a bit more than the last chapter. I was working hard to get something out so I hope this will suffice. ^_^;**

 **If you enjoyed reading, let me know what you think. I appreciate your time, and a thank you to everyone for the comments. I'm glad you liked the first chapter, and I hope this one is well received. I had to go through it a few times, so there may be some mistakes.**

 **:3 Well, anyway, thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

There are benefits to riding with a much larger alien companion on the tramway. As with the jiralhanae man, people are more than a little generous with the space they leave for the two of us.

I find this both puzzling and sad, but to my relief, Kahlo either doesn't notice or just doesn't care. We take a seat in the center of the car on the right side, having plenty of room to spread out if we want, but Kahlo seems determined to keep close. The sangheili is a bit wider in the shoulders but he seems comfortable enough, even with me wedged in at his side. I'm trying my best to keep my elbows to myself as the tram starts to speed up.

We're making good time as we walk down the sidewalk towards home, the crowds quickly moving aside to allow us more than enough room to pass, probably due to the fact that Kahlo is growling slightly under breath at every lingering gaze. I suppose he's just being overly protective.

Once we're over a section of rolling sidewalk I can see the rise of my apartment. I immediately notice the pile of crates and dark bags piled in front of my door as we near the stoop. I guess those are his things.

Now that we're here, I don't know what to really say, but I don't have to, as I'm left speechless as Kahlo walks ahead of me and begins hauling a few bags over his shoulder. I watch as he manages to cram a small box under one arm along with more than half of the stuff onto his back.

He doesn't seem to strain whatsoever but I hurry to open the door, making sure to squish myself up against the wall so he can get through more easily.

"Secure the door Lacey." He says as he walks by me and towards the living room.

Secure the—oh, he means lock it. Duh. I sigh softly as I close the door. I turn the lock and bolt the door shut. As I turn away from the door I can hear it. Oh no.

The clicking of doggy nails on the wood floor is followed by an almost too eager bark and a slightly menacing growl.

I'm not sure who is growling, but I'm halfway down the hall at a skidding-shoes-on-carpet speed when I hear a strong yip. Oh no.

Once I dash down the short hallway and into the living room, I'm greeted by the sangheili leaning over Clover. She is currently being pressed down to the ground by the nape of her neck, making small yippy cries as he holds her flat against the floor.

"That's my dog! Clover." I say quickly, hoping he doesn't think someone planted a beast into my apartment to kill me. Do they not have pets on their planet? "She's more of a barker than a biter." Probably.

Kahlo looks to me but keeps his grip on Clover who's still whining while smacking her tail to one side against the floor in agitation, "Your animal is protective of you and her home, but she must learn to accept my presence here. We will start setting these boundaries now."

Oh-kay. I guess he's not a dog person.

I watch as he starts to ease up off his toes to push up with his knees, still keeping a firm grip on Clover. He slowly presses off of her until his hand slips away and the dog zips swiftly out from under him. Clover immediately dashes up the stairs. I hear the clacking of her claws on the steps, as she most likely goes to hide under my bed. I feel a little guilty. I hadn't even tried to intervene.

"Please, don't hurt my dog." I tell him firmly, but still with a bit of a mumble, because, I mean seriously this guy is huge, "She's just afraid because you're a stranger."

The sangheili's mandibles twitch and I can't read the expression on his face, but his dark eyes seem to glimmer and there's an irritated note in his voice, "I did not injure your animal. I was establishing authority over her, I can't have any disruptions to my mission."

Your mission? Seriously? Gee, way to be impersonal about it, "Well," I stammer out, feeling a little hurt for reasons I'm not sure of, "Just be gentler, she's more fragile than she looks. She's sweet when you get to know her, it will just take time."

"Hm." He says simply and stares at me for a long moment, as if he is trying to figure something out. I can't help but twitch a bit under his scrutiny. I'm not sure why he's just…staring at me, but as soon as he started, he suddenly breaks away. I watch as he walks past the stairs and to the door less opening. He peers down that hallway, "Where may I place my things?" Oh, yes—that.

"Actually there's a room upstairs next to mine you can have, I have to clean it out a bit." I blurt out, hoping he doesn't head down the hall anyways to see the embarrassing sloppy mess of dirty clothes in the laundry room. I really need that new washing machine.

I lead the way upstairs and I hope as we head up that he doesn't fall backwards with the load he's carrying. He has such quirky legs, and I can't help but flinch at every sharp creak that accompanies almost every step we take as we walk up. He's heavy enough that one jump could probably sending his feet crashing through my floor.

We make it to the top floor alright though and my mind is buzzing with activity. Ok guest room! It's practically a storage closet, but hopefully more manageable than I remember. I hope.

I flip the light switch and I step into the room next to mine—the prospective guest room—and I stand awkwardly in the doorway, "Here we are." I suck in a long breath as I take in the colossal pile of junk in front of me. Where the heck is he going to sleep? It's all neatly stacked boxes, but it's all at the center of the room, and there's so much of it. I had never fully sorted and unpacked these things when I moved out of mom's house. "I'm so sorry, I'll clean up first. Just drop your stuff anywhere, I'll get it."

The sangheili sounds amused, "Lacey, you needn't trouble yourself. I don't wish to offend, but even the males of your kind seem to have trouble with my equipment."

Equipment? What does he have in those bags, bombs? I imagine my house going up in flames and I faintly visualize trying to stifle the flames with my dirty clothes. I guess I'm trying to think humorously so I can try and forget the fact that someone may try to kill me soon.

Maybe I should ask him to sleep on the floor next to my bed. OK, maybe that's too soon…strange guy, alien, I mean, yeah. No. And I'd probably fall on him in my sleep, I roll around a lot. Clover is the only thing keeping me from sleeping on the floor but since she probably hates me now, the waking up on the floor thing is inevitable.

"I can clear a space for myself." He says before I can speak, "I'll be careful with your items."

"I'm sorry." I apologize again, feeling it's necessary because of this mess. It really is. "I honestly wasn't expecting any of this to happen, so I didn't think about clearing out a room..."

"You don't have a mate?" He inquires, and it's an innocent question but it still takes me by surprise.

I freeze, one hand stuck in the air where I had been moving to scratch an itch on my shoulder. I fold my arms across my stomach too quickly. 'Mate'? This is mom all over again…

"Uh, no!" I say, "It's just me. Me and Clover. Used to be me and mom, at home, before I moved out. Just me now." Oh, I'm blabbering again. Well, unsurprisingly, the question is more than a little awkward. I didn't expect him to ask about my relationship status.

"My employer tells me you are twenty-six years of age, yet you are unmated, I don't mean to pry, but I find this curious." He says, and I can't meet his brown eyes. Ugh, I'm staring at my toes again.

"Why?" I ask, and I look up so I'm not talking to the ground, "Do women on your planet marry early?"

His mandibles switch again, both sets, and he leans on the wall behind him, the bag on his shoulder settling onto his knee, "Most women are claimed before their twentieth birthday, but a few refuse a mate for occupational responsibilities. Those females are cared for by male relatives."

Claimed? _Well, isn't that sexy._ Like one of those sappy romances I used to read in high school where the word 'trembled' is used in every few paragraphs. Trembled with need, trembled with desperation, and trembled as he stroked her…. yeah… "So no girlfriends then?" I ask with a smile, "You just pick a girl and marry her?"

His lower mandibles flare out in what I feel is a smile, and he drops his things at his feet with a clanking thud. He bends his knees forward, toes splayed, and begins to undo the ties on a large bag with deftness, "We have elaborate courting formalities, but unwedded males can take paramours." He paused for a moment before continuing, "A swordsmen can have any female he desires, and there are those who have bedded hundreds of females."

"Probably not at the same time." _Oh shit._ I can feel a familiar heat on my cheeks and I feel ready to smack myself. Why do I say such stupid things? What does that even mean?

I can't help but feel embarrassed when the sangheili utters a gruff laugh. Kahlo does that I-think-he's-smiling thing again, but this time with both sets of mandibles. "Our women can be as passionate in bed as a male on the battlefield. It would be a messy ordeal, oh yes, but entertaining, if you could find the energy to stay awake through it all."

I get it, yeah, because there's no way one man can last with all those women—ok stopping now. I'm talking about sex with an alien man I just met. I really don't understand how these things can happen to me, it's time for a subject change.

I clear my throat, a little loudly, and I can't help but smile as the sangheili quickly looks up, as if he was alarmed about me randomly choking or something, "Do you need anything from me right now? I could maybe help clear out some of my things?"

He shakes his head, lower mandibles dipping, "That is not necessary Lacey. I will meet with you once the task is done."

"Okay, just let me know if you change your mind." Cue leaving from awkward conversation. Ugh.

"Certainly." He says and continues to busy himself unpacking things. He has already pulled out two long cases that look as if they contain guns, maybe something as long as rifles…or whatever. Yeah I don't know anything about guns, human or alien I guess.

I shuffle out of the room quickly to allow him privacy to unpack, still feeling lame about my awkward banter earlier. I say such dumb things sometimes, and I don't know where they come from. A distraction would be nice, and then I recall that I have little to no groceries left once I hit the bottom step.

I groan and turn to trek back upstairs. I slip back into the room, ready to ask what he would like for me to pick up for him at the supermarket, and freeze when I watch Kahlo admire something in his grip. I can't look away from it, because it's absolutely beautiful…

"What is that?" I ask, and I'm too curious to feel embarrassed about my sudden intrusion on his space. I stare at the long two pronged weapon that is literally glowing silver-blue, like it's on fire; and it is…ripples of light catch on the flat blue surface and an image comes to mind of crystal blue water lit under the sun. It also gives off a soft shine of white light that sends sparkles reflecting off his chest armor.

He turns to regard me easily, looking unbothered by my sudden re-entrance. His mandibles curl into what I decide is a fanged grin, and he holds the blade up for me to admire, "This weapon is a blade of my people."

Oh… "You're a…swordsman?" Of course he is. This could not possibly get any more awkward as I begin to recall our earlier conversation.

"Yes." Kahlo said, "My uncle trained me to wield it. She is beautiful, is she not?" His voice rumbled with what I determined was pride.

So, a she, huh? I smile, "So…why a _she_ then?"

The sangheili gave me an odd look, baring mandibles, "A woman is beautiful." He explained, "She is a gift to her mate, to her family, and gives life like water."

Oh my, that is poetic. I know I'm blushing, but I can't help it. He really does have a way with words. Everything out of his mouth just sounds different from anyone I've ever met, and it's not just that deliciously thick accent he has.

I can't seriously be thinking this right now, "That was poetic."

His lower mandibles shrug at me but I see a smile in his shiny brown eyes, "Poetry is part of our culture. We often recite it before a major conflict and it is a large part of the courting process."

I'm fascinated, and it's easy to be. His culture is so different from my own and I can't help but want to romanticize and gloss over it like some sort of pretty fable. The little girl lingering inside that I can never deny asks, "Do you write a poem for a proposal then? For marriage?"

Just like that, the atmosphere changes. The arm holding the blade seems to stiffen and I watch, confused, as he slowly drops the arm to his side. The prongs of the weapon almost rest on the floor, "No. It is not necessary for me." I frown at the almost somber note in his voice. _Oh no…what did I say now?_

"What do you mean?"

Kahlo looks at me and I can't read the expression in those dark eyes of his, but his mandibles are pressed over his mouth, "I have chosen my path in life. Since the great betrayal, some of our old ways have changed, but this has not. I cannot marry."

I stare, "Why not?"

He bows his head into his shoulders for a moment before meeting my gaze again. I can't help but flinch a bit, my eyes moving away from the sudden intensity of his eyes, "My children will benefit from my ability. It is forfeited." I watch as the sangheili holds up his blade again and he stares at it as if he is seeing a new reflection on its surface, "I will take many females, bring many children into the world, but keep no wife."

Wait. Suddenly I can comprehend our earlier talk better now, "So you're supposed to mate with many different women because your people believe that your ability can be inherited?" That is the most absurd thing I have ever heard, but I wait patiently for his answer.

He replies, "It is like our blood. It is inherent to us, deeply rooted not just to body but to soul. This weapon is sacred to my people, and a worthy warrior of the blade is a hope of the same destiny onto our children."

"Oh." Because that's all I can say. He just spouted a bunch of pretty sentences that sounded a lot like poetry again and told me he was pretty much capable of having as many females as he pleased without being labelled a man-whore by society.

Well…that's nice. Wait—how many children _does_ he have?

I'm shaken from my thoughts as Kahlo suddenly reaches out to me with his free hand. I don't flinch as he places his too-large four fingered hand onto my shoulder. It looks out of place there, I'm sure. He's just big everywhere.

Well, let's not travel anywhere with that particular thought.

He holds the blade up again, for me, and I admire the shimmering, almost ethereal, beauty of it, "I have drawn my blade for you Lacey Drake." He recites, thankfully changing the subject. I'm breathless as I listen, uncertain but curious, "This means I must use it, and I will. I will defend you, your home, and your animal."

I smile but I don't laugh at the reference to my dog. He is being honest, serious, and I appreciate it. This is practically a poem…to me, and I can't even describe how nice that feels. I know my face is probably still the color of an overripe tomato and that I'm trembling in this bizarre, yet cool moment, but I don't care.

"Thank you," I say with sincerity, and almost unconsciously my arm moves and my hand is suddenly grasping the hand he has placed on my shoulder. His skin is warm, and thick, smooth, not rough. I'm stunned by my own audacity, wondering where it stemmed from—but I don't want to offend him by moving now.

He doesn't seem offended, and instead he bows his head at me, and gently squeezes the fingers on my shoulder. A moment later we pull away from each other, bumping fingers and palm for a moment before my arm does a hasty retreat behind me, and I know I'm blushing again because apparently I was a tomato in a past life.

Kahlo doesn't notice my color or just doesn't comment, instead I watch as he does something to the wide curved gray pommel in his hand and with a flicker the sword's light ceases entirely. In its place is cold metal that shines with an almost rainbow sheen as it catches the light.

"That's neat." I say, though I could have used choicer words to describe just how 'neat' such an alien weapon is. For a moment I can visualize what it would have been like to be faced with such a weapon in the convent war, but I wisely force my thoughts away from those particular imaginings not a moment later.

"I deactivated the plasma." Kahlo told me, interrupting my thoughts, and I watch as he carefully places the blade on a nearby box, "It will be active again when I have use for it."

"Hopefully you won't have to use it." I say, and I hope so. I don't want to see what a blade like that can do to a person, dangerous or not. I was never one to stomach violence well.

The sangheili gives me this straight forward look, his whole body postured towards me, "Lacey." I tense at the serious tone is voice is taking, "I will use whatever I have at my disposal to ensure your wellbeing, but you must understand. Your people would not have requested my presence if the situation wasn't one that could turn dire quickly."

I can feel a chill roll its fingers down my neck and I shudder slightly as I hug myself, nails clipping into my arms. I'm too afraid to say much of anything, and I'm trying to be brave in my own way, but it's mostly pandering to this sense of security I've imagined I have. He's pulling the wool from my eyes and now I have nothing but this bleak feeling of fear as I remember why he's here to begin with.

"I promised you my blade Lacey." Kahlo says with a softness that is almost endearing in his deep voice, "No harm will come to you as long as I'm here."

Tears come, of course, and I wipe the moisture away onto the back of my hands. I sniffle, trying to correct my stooped posture while alternately forcing a smile, "Thank you." I can't conceal the emotion in my voice, and I don't try to. I hate getting emotional in front of people, but I'm indebted to him, and I want him to know how much I appreciate his help, "I never imagined I would be in this situation, but I'm glad you're here."

My voice cracks as I say his name, "Kahlo. Thank you. I can only hope I can be a good host to you while you're here."

The sangheili smiles with his mandibles and in a pleasant thrumming voice he replies, "I will try and clean up after myself and assist you with whatever you need. Now, what is it that you wanted?"

Huh? "What?"

"You left the room, but then you came back. Was there something you wanted to ask?"

I remember now, feeling sheepish, "So…I'm going to the supermarket, for food, what would you like?"

Kahlo pauses with his hand on a container. He had bent to continue working but stood up now and regarded me before he spoke, "We can go now. This work will not take much time, I can finish later."

I blink, "You want to come with me?" I imagine him pushing a grocery cart in front of him, and I can't help but find the image silly…and now that I think about it, I haven't seen any aliens at any of the three grocery stores in the city that I visit.

The sangheili releases air between his mandibles with a slight whistle, "Lacey, I have been sent to guard you, I can't very well let you run off alone."

I want to smack myself by the obviousness of it all, but I just sigh, "Sorry, I forgot. I'm not used to this yet."

"In good time." Kahlo says with some cheer. He walks by me and pauses, "Now let us go to this 'supermarket'."

I follow him out the door and we start downstairs. I notice this time that he is placing his feet sideways as he goes down the steps, I guess to keep from losing his balance. I patiently wait for him to reach the bottom, trying to imagine how this all is going to end.

00oo00oo00oo00

"This is strange, and you can eat it too?" Kahlo asks me about another fruit he has randomly picked up in the fruit section of the market. I notice it is a bundle of bananas, but he has detached one from the bunch and is holding it up to admire it.

"That is a banana." I tell him, "Yeah, we can eat everything here. Well, _I_ can. I hope you're not allergic."

"You enjoy them?" He asks and I tell him yes and I drop them at the front of the cart with bags of grapes in three different colors, along with a peach, a plum, and a cantaloupe.

So far our grocery shopping adventure was finding fulfillment in the way of our cart which was full of all the fascinating things that Kahlo wanted to try. I found his excitement refreshing, and kind of cute, and I couldn't deny the shine in his eyes. He asked for nothing, but I grabbed what I knew he wanted.

I just hope he isn't allergic to anything. I don't need to kill my protector with a banana or a cumquat. I don't think they write poetry about sangheili warriors who perish from a bad reaction to fruit. With how serious they are about their culture, I myself don't find it that amusing.

Ok, it's a little funny.

"I can contact Dr. Markab." Kahlo said enthusiastically, "She will know what I can safely consume."

"Who?"

We walk by a stand full of strawberries and raspberries. Kahlo immediately leans over to admire them, "She is not a practitioner, merely a researcher, but she will know. These here." He picks up a tiny berry in his finger, and I hold back a wide grin at how absolutely adorable the image is, "They look of kahlu fruit, do you like these?"

"Strawberries." I finally smile as he holds the berry up to his face, practically squinting those dark shiny eyes as he examines it, "I love them, so yes." I grab a package and I can almost see the childlike glee in his eyes. He opens the package I placed in the cart and tucks his berry in and we continue on.

Soon we're past the fruits and going onto the vegetables, and I know we're in for a long haul. I begin to worry as I realize I'm stocking my cart full of food items I don't usually buy. I appreciate Kahlo's intuitiveness as he speaks up.

"I can share in the payment." The sangheili tells me passively as we walk towards the squash on display, "I was given funds to cover my stay."

"I appreciate that, I just hope you can consume half of what we're getting today." I don't just mean the allergy thing either, produce has a shorter expiration date, and we currently have a _lot_ of it.

"I'm fond of all these shapes and colors." Kahlo says, and I can see he is already admiring the eggplant in the cold produce shelves, "Perhaps they will taste as well as they look."

I laugh at that, "Star fruit cuts out into stars, and it's pretty as a garnish, but its super gross. Not a fan of blackberries and raspberries either. They're too seedy for me." I point to the vegetable in his grip, "That purple thing is an eggplant, my mother likes to slice and fry them."

"We are omnivores, but we eat more meat." Kahlo says, "I myself have always enjoyed a balanced diet when I can be allowed it." He continued to admire the eggplant, flipping it around in his grip, he gives it a light squeeze, "I served under a ship master many years ago. All we had to eat was dried meat and dako nuts. It was a terrible time." He dipped his head slowly, as if considering something, "Yes, I will enjoy sampling these."

I watch as he drops the eggplant into the cart, then moves to grab up another. I explain to him about produce bags and help him bag the items he wants so the cashier will be able to get through them easily at checkout. I hold open the bags for him and we continue on our way.

Soon enough we're through the produce aaisles, and I hold back the urge to throw a tomato at someone as two women practically sprint out of the next aaisle at the sight of Kahlo. He doesn't seem to notice and as soon as we head down the freezer aaisle full of frozen desserts and ice-cream, I know we're going to be here for a while. Kahlo immediately asks me what pie is and grabs up a carton of pistachio ice-cream, reveling in the 'vibrant' green color of it.

When we're at the meat section of the store, the sangheili seems almost startled and he turns to regard me with his head a-tilt, "Your meat is neatly wrapped but there are pieces missing."

"What do you mean?" I ask, because I have no idea what the heck he's talking about. Pieces? Is he not sure what hamburger came from what part of the cow?

He motioned with a large hand at the hamburger on display, "There are no organs, only flesh."

Ew.

"Well." I swipe some hair out of my face with a finger, trying to hide my distaste. If he likes organs he likes organs…"There are chicken hearts…somewhere. I think liver too."

"Your meat is always packaged this way?" He shakes his head, lower mandibles making a dipping motion, "It must be terrible to have to consume such old meat."

What? Oh, no way. "You eat things alive?" I gape.

The sangheili stared, "That is an old tradition practiced by some ancient religious leaders, but no, I do not." He stared at the packaged hamburger meat again, "Your meat, is it only found here?"  
"Well, I guess you can go elsewhere, I know there's a butcher shop on White Street. I like to shop here because, well, they tend to have everything I need." Please don't make me go there, I get uneasy enough around packaged meat.

He continues to ask me about meat, and about the animals humans regularly consume…the kinds of fish we have on Earth, etc. He seems astonished that most of us have never killed anything to eat ourselves, but instead depend on other humans. Our conversation continues as we start down the first next aaisle, and he discovers bread, which is apparently a novelty item to a sangheili perspective.

In all, it takes us two hours to leave the grocery store, as Kahlo is utterly fascinated with everything. The print on the boxes, the sizes, the shapes…he most definitely hasn't been in a grocery store before. Maybe his company or whatever had ordered food for him? I'm not sure, but as much as I bore of grocery shopping, he had made the whole thing feel like a new experience for the both of us.

Now we're back at home and I'm trying to shove everything into my bloated refrigerator. It gets packed enough that I'm forced to go into Kahlo's 'room' to retrieve my old mini fridge. It once came in handy in college when I had the habit of locking myself in my room to study. It helped to have a ready supply of cream soda, my favorite kind, stashed in the fridge under my desk.

Kahlo watches as I hook up the mini fridge at the only available outlet, located on the counter near the toaster. It slides almost too-snugly under the kitchen cabinets, but it fits well enough. Once it's ready he assists me in placing the rest of the produce within. I stack the shelves full, bags of grapes bulging on the top shelf, but I leave out the strawberries, and a melon, both foods that Kahlo expressed great desire in trying out first.

I make a motion like I'm dusting off my hands when we finish up, a habit I received from my mom who loves to express every finished action with, well, action, "Done!" I say, feeling celebratory, "Now, let's see about slicing up this melon."

Kahlo informs me, once I finish cleaning the strawberries, that his doctor had messaged back a list of foods he could consume safely. I receive the go ahead on what we left out, so I finish preparing the strawberries and cutting the cantaloupe.

Apparently mushrooms are a no-go, along with carrots, and beets, which is fine with me because the latter is super gross.

Soon I, along with one awkwardly large sangheili, take a seat at my too-small dining room table, and we stare at the platter of sliced summer melon and strawberries sitting between us.

"Go ahead and try what you like." I encourage him, and I feel an almost girlish glee as I wait for him to sample something. It's silly, but I can't help but feel excited seeing someone try something for the first time, especially something like strawberries, which I love.

Kahlo takes a large four fingered hand out across the table and bends two long fingers to take up a melon slice first. He brings the melon up to his mouth and I watch as upper and lower mandibles work in tandem to receive it. Yellow liquid dribbles lightly onto the table as he clamps down with his sharp fangs onto the melon slice once before swallowing.

His mandibles flare out, wider on the bottom, and his eyes widen as he looks at me, mandibles flipping in his mouth, "This is strange. It's like a root on my planet, but sweeter."

"I'm not a mush melon fan." I tell him, "I'm glad you like it though. Try the berries, they are my favorite." I lean forward a bit on my elbows to watch him eat.

He eats a bit clumsily with these small berry slices, and I wish I could have just cut off the green parts and just kept them whole. A few strawberries fall to the table in small chunks when he attempts to snap them down. I'm unsurprised. With a mouth like his, he probably swallows a lot of things whole, and I did slice them a bit thinly…

Once he gets some down by cupping his hands and dipping his mandibles in to collect the fruit, he informs me of the delightful taste and continues consuming the rest of the plate. He asks me after a few more swallows if I would like to 'partake in eating the fruit too', but I just shake my head and watch him enjoy it.

Once we're done snacking, I scan the clock on the wall and I find it's already past three. I remind Kahlo, who is all too eager to sample something else new from the fridge that he has to get a sleeping area set up for tonight.

I won't take no for an answer this time when he tries to go at it alone, and together we work to clear out the space. I decide that we should take some of the lighter boxes downstairs to tuck under the crevice beneath the stairs. The heavier ones we leave in the corner of the room, as I wasn't too eager to try and haul those downstairs.

Soon we have a manageable space, with the rest of the boxes that weren't sent downstairs, stacked against the wall at the back, leaving more than enough room for one sangheili.

I let out a thin whoosh of air as I stretch my arms out over my head. I'm glad we finally finished, because it was fairly exhausting work for me, because I tend to sit around more than do any real exercise. Kahlo of course, seems fine, and is unrolling what looks like a bedroll from the biggest bag in his pile of things.

"At least that's done." I say, as I watch him unpack.

"Thank you for your assistance Lacey."

"You're welcome." I smile, feeling proud, even though he was insanely strong enough he could have done fine without me.

Suddenly, curiously, I can hear a song playing somewhere. Kahlo perks up from his chore and looks at me, and I realize with a start that I left my phone downstairs and it is sounding off with my ringtone, "I'll be right back." I promise Kahlo, and I retreat from the room.

I'm relieved to see that Clover has come out of hiding and is lying out on my sofa panting softly, making a soft whine at me as I move to collect the ringing phone from the coffee table.

"Sorry girl." I say to her softly, and I answer the phone, "Hello?" I can hear fear cut into my voice when I realize I hadn't bothered to check the caller ID. What if some breathy voiced psycho is calling me?

A few seconds later, to my immense relief, Leanne's voice perks up from the other end of the line, "Hey, sorry Lacey, I dropped the phone between the cushion again. I'm such a loser, so, where'd you get off to? You kind of disappeared after stone face stole you away earlier."

Stone face? Well, that man did have a problem with expression I guess, "I'm fine, I'm at home." I pause. I desperately want to tell Leanne all about what's happening to me, and about Kahlo, but I'm not sure if that's a good idea or not.

"We got off with pay!" Leanne practically sings into the phone and I know she's probably doing a little celebratory dance on her end. I sometimes envy her energy. It's only past noon, yet I'm already tired. It's been a long day.

"Yay." I know it comes off as weak and of course, Leanne doesn't _not_ notice that.

"What's wrong Lace?" She asks, and I tense a bit at the concern in her voice. I can already feel my resolve crumbling. I just can't keep a secret from my best, hell, my only realfriend.

"Well…stone—I mean, Mr. Clint was an investigator working on the case. He wanted to speak with me and..." I can feel a pressure building in my chest, in my throat, and my eyes. I can't hold back my emotions as I recall everything. My eyes blur, "He said-." I choke. Tears sprang free.

Fuck.

I start sobbing into the phone like a big baby and I'm trying to press a palm to my mouth, and the phone into my neck as I try and quiet the sound. I hope Kahlo can't hear me and doesn't rush down with sword in hand. I can hear Leanne's voice practically shriek into my ear on the phone, and I have to hold it away from my ear as I furiously wipe at my eyes.

"I'm coming right over! Don't you dare lock me out!" I'm numb and I stare horrified at the phone after she promptly hangs up. Oh no.

I stand there for what feels like forever, phone still clasped in my trembling fingers. I start to feel the tension drop off swiftly, and I take in a deep breath. I feel relieved almost.

"You are in distress." Kahlo's voice sounds off behind me.

I sigh.

00oo00oo00oo00

I sit on the sofa with Kahlo, whose leg is practically on top of my own, the sangheili refusing to leave my side. I can hear Clover's low rumbling growl from the hall nearby, and I sigh again as I explain to Kahlo what will probably be occurring any minute now.

"She is your friend." The sangheili rumbles, "Yet, you are anxious?"

"I don't know how she is going to react to…all this." I wave a hand out, but I'm not sure what I'm even motioning to. I just lamely drop it onto my lap again and squeeze my fingers together.

I'm too nervous to be surprised as the sangheili moves his arm to rest a hand on my leg, It's large enough he could easily close his fingers around my thigh. I look up as he speaks, "If she is coming to comfort you, she is a good friend." He seems thoughtful and I watch as his mandibles fold, "My appearance can frighten some humans, if that is a concern, I can wait in the next room."

"No, not at all." I say quickly, "I don't want you to leave. I mean, you shouldn't. You're here for me, it would be rude to just dismiss you. I'm not sure how she'll react, but Leanne is a good friend, you're right, she won't freak out." Probably.

Just like that, life decides that events should happen in a timely matter and there is a crazy pounding at my front door that has Clover barking from the hall.

"That's her!" I blurt and I move to jump up.

Pin wheeling, I squeak as I fall backwards onto Kahlo's leg. One thigh slides in-between his legs, sending the remaining leg striking out at a cockeyed position towards the ceiling.

I realize, mortified, that his hand had been still holding onto my thigh when I had moved to stand, causing me to spill back, off balance, practically in his lap. In my panicked fumbling to remove myself, one hand is suddenly sliding across a very firm chest muscle, the other frantically grasping at the cushion beneath us.

Kahlo makes a sound like a grunt as he tries to assist me in my endeavor, but he's not sure where to place his hands, and we're both touching, retreating, and suddenly his hand is on my waist and I apologize in a continued spill of incomprehensible words as I splutter on his lap. I'm more than a little certain that this is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me.

Then Leanne bursts into the room, the wood door slamming hard enough into the wall that I'm certain that the door knob has left a dent. The blonde woman practically soars across the hall as she sees me, and I watch, stunned, as she grabs the blue vase on the table nearby that my mother gave me as a home-warming present.

She holds it up like a dangerous weapon and screams, her hair wild around eyes that look crazy with how big they are, "I'll save you Lacey!"

 **Sorry for the long wait guys :P School is here, 18 credit hours. –shivers- Hope you enjoyed nonetheless. Not sure when the next update will be, been crazy busy. And kind of peeved because the stupid xbox broke two of my Halo disks. So thought I'd make time and finish the last page, apologies again, I took longer than I meant to. ^-^ Thanks for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I blink and it's like a flash in a change of frames in an action movie. I'm suddenly out of Kahlo's lap, and I'm on my feet, stumbling into the side of the coffee table.

I look up as the sangheili's shadow falls over me, and I watch wordlessly as Kahlo moves away and towards Leanne with a swiftness that's startling.

The sangheili strides forward, shoulders broadening as he approaches my friend, who is now stammering something I can't understand, the vase still held up in her grip, but this time as if she is preparing to launch it at any given moment.

 _He's going to take her out._ I don't question the absurdity of these words as they roll through my mind and I make a snap judgment decision to rush forward and save Leanne from getting herself knocked out by my sangheili bodyguard.

This burst of action only serves in causing me to spontaneously crash into the coffee table with one knee, and I slide across the smooth surface my head eventually meeting the arm of my easy chair.

Tears sting in my vision as I end on the floor. My head is in a thudding vice and tears blur my world as I roll onto my side, one hand on my forehead while I try and push myself back onto my feet with the other.

I can hear Leanne then, as if she is right next to me, and soon it's apparent that she is, and I can feel her grip on my arm and her concerned voice in my ear. I can also hear a sound like a growl in the background but I don't pay it much mind because it feels like my head is going to explode and I can only take in so much sound.

When I finally gain some amount of relief from Leanne's cool hand on my throbbing forehead I sit up a bit and she retreats.

Dammit I'm such a klutz.

"Are you okay Lacey?" She steps back and looks down at me with a frown.

"Yeah." No, it's a lie, my head hurts like hell, but it's nice to console your friends.

Once we're both on our feet I look around and try and find Kahlo and wince as I spot him in the doorway of the kitchen, mopping at his chest with a damp wash rag stained in spots of something purple. _Uh…_

It is at that moment I see my vase in scattered pieces across the hardwood floor. I step back in response, glancing around on the ground to see if I'm in danger of stepping on any of it.

"Sorry." Leanne says, her face flushing, "I uh, broke your vase."

"You." The voice is so scary that I literally hop onto my toes, ramming my butt into the side of the sofa. I manage to spill back onto the cushion as the very angry looking sangheili storms forward.

Leanne, staying true to her stubborn and reckless sense of character, merely crosses her arms as the much taller, much stronger looking alien male towers over her petite form. It could almost be comical if the atmosphere wasn't so serious.

"You're a fool." The sangheili says with a coldness that I can feel, and I can't help but hug myself, fingers digging nervously into skin. I look to Leanne and I feel surprise even though I shouldn't, that she is meeting the sangheili firmly with her gaze locked on his own, her confidence showing in the arc of her shoulders and the arms across her chest, chin tilted up almost defiantly.

"No, one I'm over protective and impulsive, two, you are freaking huge..." She quipped back, "And three, you need to learn some people skills, Mr., " _I charge and talk later.""_

"This _crazy woman_." Kahlo says, this time to me, his eyes narrowed, "She is your friend?"

Leanne's mouth opens to retort so I quickly intercede with a _, "Yes."_ When I look back to him he has stepped a bit more under the light and I notice something I hadn't noticed before. The skin under the slight fold of his chin…

"You're hurt!"

The sangheili tilts his neck to the side and I can see the cuts very well under the light now, and the strange purple liquid—that's his blood?—shining on the copper armor at his neck. As I near him I can also smell something unpleasant, kind of like something you smell in a factory. His blood stinks, it's almost an acrid smell and I can't help but scrunch up my nose by reflex.

"Yes." He replies as I'm trying not to wrinkle my nose, "That tends to happen when a maddened female throws something sharp at you. I'll live." He releases air from his nostrils in a light snort, looking at Leanne with something like derision as she glares back, "Good aim."

"Thank you." Leanne gives him a smirk and I want to moan aloud in the sudden uncomfortable atmosphere forming around the two of them.

"Enough, please." I step forward, off to the side, still not comfortable enough to stand between them. Kahlo is apparently scary when he's annoyed, "This is all just a big misunderstanding, it's my fault, and I apologize for it."

The speed at which Leanne spins around prepares me for what I know is coming, and I can't help but flinch under her glare, "You cry like you're in trouble and you expect me to just calmly walk in here. What did you expect would happen when I walked in? Do you bring aliens often to your apartment Lace? I feel like this is a new trend, in which case, a heads-up would have been peachy!"

I feel lame, _embarrassed_ …I swallow the knot in my throat. I know she's right of course, "Sorry, I was just feeling a bit overwhelmed." And I overreact, damn I'm such a baby, "You could have knocked…"

"Best friends don't knock, we break in," Leanne's face sobers, and she gives me this long look and I look away from the shine I see as concern in her eyes, "What's going on Lace?"

Kahlo intrudes on our conversation, stepping forward, and makes a sound like a gruff sigh. His shadow eclipses the both of us, "She is under my protection."

"He's kind of my guard, at least for the time being." I try and explain quickly as Leanne looks up at the sangheili, wrinkling her nose slightly, which is something she does when she's thinking.

Or maybe she can smell him too…? Okay, it smells kind of like that stuff that swallowed up some dinosaurs…tar, yeah, that. Wow that's heady.

She looks back at me, arms crossed, and I exhale softly. She'll want a solid explanation. Of course. I decide to just get it over with, and we take a seat on the couch, and I begin talking. It's hard, and my voice cracks. I'm still uncomfortable by the fact that even as these random things occur, my life is in very real serious danger.

The conversation actually takes around twenty minutes, of Leanne mostly interrupting to voice her concern, rage, apologies, and threats against anyone who would touch her _best_ -best friend in the whole span of all-existence….

Something like that.

Leanne claps a hand against one of Kahlo's biceps, who had taken a seat on the sofa with us not long after I began explaining the situation to my friend. He has to sling one leg over the side of the arm of the sofa, because he's as big as the both of us put together. He doesn't move at Leanne's touch, but merely gives my friend a long look.

"Don't worry Lace, I've got your back." Leanne places a comforting hand on my shoulder, "I won't let any psycho freaks get to you, and it won't just be you and Kyle."

"Kahlo." The sangheili responds, insistent, a little annoyed.

"I don't care." Musical, practically a chirp. Leanne casts a mischievous smile towards the sangheili who just looks confused.

I sigh, he didn't seem capable of hurting Leanne, and still doesn't, he's just a bit irritated with her, I still feel a little ashamed that I felt he would have hurt her. I guess I'm not that great of a judge of character.

I'm surprised when I hear a hearty laugh, and both Leanne and I look towards Kahlo, but I feel Leanne practically bristle beside me, as if she is expecting him to quip something cynical back at her.

"You're just like Salou." His mandibles flex in his laughter, a long finger lightly rubbing at the wound on his neck as he regards us.

"Salou?" I question.

"My youngest sister." He says, and I feel a flush of warmth in my chest. His family, of course he has a family…

I'm curious, "You have a sister?"

Kahlo dips his head, "I have three younger sisters. Salou, Wen, Rusa.

I hadn't thought about his family, much less him having _three_ sisters. I wish I had a sister, or even a brother, but mom seemed content with just me. Of course, maybe that's all she could afford having. When I was a preteen I remember having to stay home by myself after school. Mom had to work until late at night, so I usually had to reheat soup or fast food from the night before to eat dinner, and later she would come in and kiss me in the middle of the night. I remember feeling guilty that I couldn't help her, even as a teenager, mom hadn't wanted me to work, she told me education was far more important.

I guess that's what influenced my work-a-holic attitude where it concerns school work, or my career in general. Ugh, I'm going to have so much work to catch up on once work starts up again.

"Big brother huh?" Leanne laughs, snapping me away from my thoughts, and I smile, glad the conversation has changed to something light, something endearing even, "Lace and I are sibling-less, but she's pretty much my sister." She nudges me playfully with her elbow, "We still haven't sworn off that genetic test thing, we're probably _at least_ cousins."

"Yeah, if black hair runs in the family." I laugh, reflexively running some fingers through the crooked part in my hair. Everyone in my family has either been brunettes or raven haired. Mom's a woodsy brunette, while my hair is a black as a crow. I think it looks almost fake, my hair. It's dense black, not one a strand a separate hue.

I envy Leanne's hair, blonde hair is always so beautiful and bright. The only thing we share in common is our blue eyes, but mine are dark, dark enough that they could probably count as brown at a distance. I recall as a young child that other kids said I looked spooky, because they couldn't see the pupil in my eyes.

"Your mane." Kahlo speaks up, "Is hair as dark as yours rare?"

I feel a flush of warmth come into my cheeks, which happens when anyone talks about my appearance. I'm not sure if it's just the uncertainty of my self-esteem or just shyness. I dip my chin, the subject of his query falling past my ears to tickle my nose.

"My mom has brown hair, but hers is pretty dark." I smile at him, tucking the strands behind an ear with one switch of my finger, "Not common but not rare either, not really. I guess brunettes are most common, err, earth colored tones."

I don't notice, because it's a swift moment and I'm awakened to his touch by his fingers suddenly brushing my cheek, digits folding to cup some strands in his palm. I hold my breath, uncertain of how to react. His skin is marred with lines, an alien texture, yet still smooth mostly, sleek. I can feel long strands slip free from his hand to fall onto my neck as his hand retreats.

"Fascinating." He says, and I stare at him. He's looking at me, and suddenly we meet eyes and his mandibles tuck in, then flare out, as if he wants to say something more, but then he looks away. I frown, confused. Is he embarrassed?

No one says anything after that, but Leanne is looking at Kahlo, and I'm opening my mouth to break the silence when I'm interrupted by a great clattering at the door, which sounds like someone generously clapping the door-ring hard enough to dent the wood. Is the whole neighborhood planning on checking up on me today?

I sigh as I hop to my feet. Leanne gets up with me, but it's Kahlo who is already up and walking towards the door before we can even step forward, "Wait," I say quickly, moving to follow.

He stops and regards me with a turn of his shoulders, mandibles folding in on themselves, "It is my job to keep you secure, allow me to answer the call." He faces forward, his shoulders shifting as he flexes his neck, "This time I will be better prepared."

"Ok." I nervously step back, arms folded against my chest, as I watch him move towards the door. I'm nervous, I mean, a sangheili, an alien, is about to answer the door, in a predominately human neighborhood.

Oh damn. I remember something very bad about that.

I can hear the door open and Kahlo's voice, and not soon after something akin to a very unmanly scream of surprise. Of course…

I know that sound. That pitchy, yet somehow masculine voice, that always sounds on the border of extreme disdain.

"I'm calling the authorities!"

I duck under Kahlo's arm and soon I'm pressing up against his hip with my rear, forcing a smile on my face that probably looks just as uneasy and un-confident as I feel, "Mr. Gregory! Hi!"

The small man looks up at me with a dark look on his pinched face. He's short, but stout, with a very pink head barely covered by heavily oiled brown hair that appears to be falling out faster than it's growing. He practically spits at me as he continues ranting.

"Ms. Drake, this cannot stand, _will not_ stand, what is this _alien_ doing in the building?"

I flinch about the same time as Kahlo releases a sound that sounds animalistic in its fury, mandibles flaring, revealing rows of very sharp teeth, "Your tone it's of blatant disrespect. You would do well to rethink your dialogue human." Kahlo practically hisses in his fury, and I step aside as spittle flies free from his maw.

The man makes a scared sound, almost falling backwards off the stoop, and I quickly step forward, past a vehement sangheili, who has both of his large hands folded into fists.

"Mr. Gregory, please! He is a government agent." I say quickly, practically blabbering, hoping I sound at least coherent enough for the man to listen and not freak out and call out the authorities…

Or kick me out of the building. I really can't afford for that to happen right now. Or ever.

"What?" His voice is still fearful, but also has a bite of incredulity.

I continue, "He's my security, he was hired, uh, to protect me! To protect the building!" That should help, I mean, I pretty much guaranteed the preservation of this establishment, so hopefully that is enough, and who wants to challenge the _government_?

Oh please don't kick me out, it's really hard to find a good place in the city…

"If you've gotten involved with drugs or criminals then you better explain yourself, I won't have you endangering my property with any foolishness."

"You." The sangheili's voice is a sudden presence and I shiver as a chill runs down my neck in response to the coolness of his voice, "You dare taint Lacey's name with your groundless accusations?" He steps past me, and I'm forced out of the doorway to wait behind his frame. He seems taller and I timidly hide in his shadow.

He continues, "You are a small man, with a large mouth." The sangheili makes a snarling sound and I imagine his jaws are open fully displaying the curved yellow fangs lining his mandibles, "You dare dirty my charge's name with your babbling nonsense? I will not take any more trespasses, _human_. Speak carefully with what you say next or I'll cut out your tongue!"

Oh no, oh shit, oh fu—he just totally threatened him… Can he do that? I'm going to have to search for a new leaser...why is it so hard to find a place to rent in the city?

I'm going to have to move back home with mom at this rate.

I can hear Leanne whoop behind me, "You tell him!"

Oh sweet—

Kahlo continues, "I work for a government agency that ensures the safety of its citizenry, and Lacey is my charge, if you have any problems with my presence, you can take them up with me, understood?" He flares those four mandibles open in something that feels almost like a smile, but it's a chilling one, his sharp teeth shining under the light.

I think Mr. Gregory gets it, and blabs out nonsensical words, throws something that sounds almost like an apology to me, and practically dashes down the steps and towards his car parked along the curb. We all watch wordlessly, except Leanne who I can hear laughing insanely behind us, as he races down the street, nearing running headfirst into another car whose horn blares loudly.

Leanne, still laughing, pops around Kahlo's side and throws an arm around my neck, "Wow, you really know how to pick them Lacey, can I borrow him? There's this little sleaze who won't get off my ass at the grocery store, maybe I can sic Kahlo on him."

"Sleaze?" Kahlo looks down at Leanne, his brown eyes widening slightly with something that looks like concern.

Leanne makes a face, looking disgusted, "Just this slight of a man who wants to get in my panties. A pervert." Classy Leanne.

I close the door and turn to see Kahlo following Leanne who is moving to take a seat on the sofa.

"Do you believe me poses a danger to you?" Kahlo stares intently at Leanne, who he is standing over her, arms crossed, "It is not enough for me to challenge him for infringing on your honor, although I would be pleasured to deal him pain for his impudence."

Leanne smiles, and I sigh as I move to sit by her, "As much as I'd like to see you beat him into a pulp, I think he's harmless…just annoying."

I'm not surprised Leanne has that kind of trouble, she's very pretty. I don't think that means she gets the best in any relationship though, she easily can get a boyfriend, but they don't last very long. Leanne once told me she thought that this fish bowl was steadily running dry, and that all the good men were either off planet, dead, gay, or aliens.

I could believe the last part. Nobody was quite like our sangheili. At this thought I watch Kahlo as he continues to converse with Leanne, saying something akin to 'assisting her readily if she believes herself to be in any sort of danger.' I watch his mandibles as they gracefully fold and part with each word that escapes his mouth, and the way his large dark almond shaped eyes reflect the light on the ceiling. I can see a little bit of a reptilian arc of his pupil in those dark depths…he's fascinating really.

I hear talking, and I blink quickly feeling a warmth come into my cheeks as I look to Leanne, "What?" And now back to reality.  
I know I'm in trouble when Leanne quirks her rosy lips in an almost mischievous smile, "What are you thinking about Lacey? You were staring at Kahlo so long I thought his skin was going to catch fire." W-What? What does that even mean?

I feel my face redden, and press a palm against my mouth as Kahlo faces me squarely, "Is something wrong?" He asks, and I stammer under my hand.

Leanne laughs, "It's nothing Kahlo, don't worry about it." She meets my gaze head on, blue eyes shining with mirth, and I scowl back at her.

That's silly. I mean, that probably wouldn't even work, he's like so big. Okay—changing the subject. Leanne continues laughing as my face gets redder while Kahlo just continues asking what is wrong with my face.

This has been a long day.

00oo00oo00oo00

"Okay, since we're grounded from work—with pay." Leanne does a little dance, with a twist of her hips, hand and batter covered spoon in the air, "Seriously, this is a vacation, let's enjoy it as much as possible! Ugh, _wow_ , I could get used to this!"

An hour later and we somehow found ourselves in the kitchen with my overly excited colleague throwing boxes and kitchen ware around in abandon. A spatula clattered on the countertop along with the flour sifter, "Frowns need sweets, to bring the smiles out. Eventually we'll get cavities, but for now, let's just live it up."

Leanne had determined that the best way to make up for her earlier intrusion, breakage of vase, and the situation of them being off work in general, was to make lots of sweets.

And Leanne is seriously good at cooking, especially the sweeter things. I made a promise to never tell, but she used to like cooking as an outlet. Unlike my mom who worked hard and wasn't shy in her love of me, Leanne's mom wasn't nice.

She was a drunk and a mean, selfish sort of woman, and had often left Leanne to her own devices, which meant scrounging in the cabinets for a bite to eat, and Leanne told me of her common visits to the kindly old woman next door for company, and eventual guidance. Leanne had fortunately busied herself with more positive distractions and had learned how to cook a variety of foods, gotten a job to support herself, and had eventually earned a scholarship through her work and graduated from college.

She's a good strong friend, and I'm both happy and proud to know her. Especially right now, with the scent of chocolate chip cookies drifting across the kitchen from the first patch in the oven. Ugh, I think heaven must smell like cookies. It should…

After an hour in the kitchen we sat around the dining room table, my seat on the other side with Leanne, as Kahlo requires more leg room. He looks silly on the too small metal stool, and I can see how he Is leaning forward a bit, distributing some of the weight onto his toes, trying to preserve the seat under his bulk. He glances a bit under him as the stool creaks under his weight and I hide a smile as I move to open the stove for Leanne who has oven mitts on and ready to collect them.

Once they're cool enough to snatch, I don't hesitate to reach for one of the chocolate cookies at the center of the table on a large blue serving plate that, humorously enough, had been given to me along with the vase Leanne broke by my mother.

I slide a cookie into my mouth, and bite down, nuts cracking under my teeth crisply, crumbs slipping down my lips, and chocolate practically oozing onto my tongue. I moan out loud, and I'm feeling embarrassed again as Kahlo stares at me, probably wondering how a food item could make me sound like I'm orgasming. Ok, but _seriously_ , Leanne makes some amazing cookies.

"You know." Leanne's voice snapped me out of my thoughts, "You could always stay with me, and we could be roomies? Just you, me…and Kyle." I didn't miss the wry grin that Leanne flashed at the sangheili who looked a bit slack jawed at her audacity.

"Kahlo." He said firmly, and he presses his mandibles against his mouth. He looks stern. Also kind of scary, because he is pretty big, his shoulders are wider than my table almost. I realize then just how small the table is, and that it's decked in a flower print table cloth. I feel myself giggle. It's stupid, I know…but the armored sangheili warrior, floral print. Cookies.

We stare at him for a long time, at the total seriousness of his expression, and I'm not sure if it's the sugar, or just this shared craziness, but we start breaking into laughter.

I clap a hand over my mouth as cookie crumbs fly free, but I'm still snickering, and Leanne has her head planted on the table, shoulders shaking.

Kahlo stares at us as if we both had suddenly mutated and attached to each other to form one big ball of crazy, "What is so amusing?"

We can't stop laughing, and I see tears spring to Leanne's eyes as she jumps up from the table and leans against the counter, shoulders shaking in laughter. I lay my head on the table, trying to catch my breath.

Eventually we quiet, both of us breathing hard, working to wipe the wetness from our eyes. Kahlo is standing now, towering over the both of us.

"Are you ill?" He asks.

Leanne splutters with laughter again and I smile apologetically at Kahlo who is now looking quite severe in her direction, "Is there no cure for your insanity?" He asks.

He doesn't get an answer, and Leanne quickly flees the kitchen, snorting with renewed laughter as she makes her retreat.

I grab the tray of cookies as Kahlo turns to me, mandibles flared open as if he is prepared to ask another question. I just smile and hold up the tray, "Cookie?"

 **I'm sorry this has taken so so long to get out. Honestly I've been really busy and just today managed to finish editing his chapter. I hope it has enough content to satisfy you guys. I tried my best for the time being. Let me know what you think. Thanks for being patient with me, hope you guys are having a lovely Spring so far.**

 **Anyone else looking forward to Mass Effect? I wish we had a romance option that looked like a sangheili, now that would be hot. ;3**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

I'm under a gray cloud and I don't notice him until I feel his warm breath send strands of hair dancing over my ear. My eyes meet at the chest when I turn to face him, and I notice that the alien cloth does little to conceal the muscular pectorals beneath. I can't imagine any human man contesting with those.

I faintly wonder if all sangheili are this ripped or if Kahlo is even the finest example of his kind. It's a thought that distracts me from my grim mood even as I flinch at the thought of facing a sangheili defined as 'buff' by his kind's standards.

"You've been gone a while. I was concerned." Kahlo explains. His shiny dark eyes meet my own and his mandibles dip a bit and flex as he breathes.

My cheeks flush and I bite the inside of my cheek lightly as I begin distractedly counting off the number of fangs in his mandibles. Of course he's worried, I've been hiding in here for twenty minutes as quiet as the dead, and on popcorn night. It's just a personal matter. Nothing dangerous. He's a bodyguard and all but I don't exactly need him to defend me from my own mother.

Probably.

"It was just a phone call." I force a small smile, although I'm feeling exhausted, well, mentally. When did I get so down on myself? College had nothing on this. "My mother."

"Is she well?" He asks.

"She's fine, it's all good." Words spill out like a babble, and I recall exactly why I'm so flustered, and I know Kahlo can read me by now. I'm pretty sure my face is always an open book. Now he gives me an almost stern look, head dipped down to look into my eyes.

I can't look at him, and so I stare down at the hole in the shoelace of my left shoe. I hear his breath release in a gentle huff, and he says, "Lacey, I can't help you if you don't let me in. I don't like to pry, but I feel I must." His dark eyes draw across my face and I look away from the intensity of them. They're so deeply expressive, and large. Dark pools of water that reflect so much emotion.

I guess we have that much in common as different races.

"You are anxious, and I would like to know why." He says again. Firmly. Pressing for answers.

It's nice to have someone care but it also frustrates me. Sometimes I don't want people reading into my emotions, or even caring enough to try. Kahlo however…he is here for me, and I guess I can't just ignore his requests. I just really don't want to talk about this right now.

Even though he's soon to be involved in my family matters regardless.

"I'm fine, I'm just a little nervous about my mom." And I explain to him the phone call I had received.

Apparently my mom was feeling sick for my company and had insisted that she would visit in two days. There was no talking her out of it. She had already boasted about the plane ticket she had received as a gift from a friend at work. I knew better. She had most likely purchased it and didn't want to seem too desperate to see me.

For being adamant about staying single, mom seems awfully lonely. That bothers me, because I feel almost responsible, and I don't know why. She never tried dating anyone when I was a kid, and she had seemed to scoff at affectionate couples we saw on outings to the grocery store or on the street.

"Does she visit often?" Kahlo asks and I meet his gaze, arms folded over my chest. I bite my lip lightly as I regard him. I'm still thinking about how mom will react. She's going to be bothered enough by the fact that I'm in serious trouble with a crime gang.

"No, it's been awhile." I said honestly, "But I'm not really looking forward to it."

"And why is that?" Kahlo asks, so full of questions that I feel an irritating itch at the back of my arm. I scratch it nonchalantly as I frown up at him.

"Well, for starters, I'm going to have to explain the murder of my boss, the fact that I'm involved in a scary criminal investigation…." I stretched out my arm, rolling down the sleeve of my shirt, "And with you."

Kahlo's mandibles flared open in what I knew now was a smile. He had bantered with Leanne the night before about their very different facial expressions, stating that humans looked terrified when they gritted their teeth in a smile. In her opinion, sangheili were quite scary with their pointed fangs jutting out everywhere, but she hadn't had to say it, Leanne had beat her to it. He had merely laughed in response.

"Yes, we are quite involved." I looked up, alarmed. Kahlo gave me an amused look, his chin tilted forward, one mandible set hanging slack, relaxed, and the other curved open in a smile. He looked almost smug.

"I-I'm sorry." I stammer, my cheeks going hot, "But you know what I meant."

He chuckled, "Yes, but I enjoy watching your skin change colors." He looked me up and down, and I feel like a piece of meat on display in a butcher's shop. Blood red and ready to smoke.

Stupid alien jerk. I shouldn't even be embarrassed, but as usual, my emotions get the best of me.

"Well, anyway." I say, just to say anything. "It should go alright as long as you don't stand around her or get out any weapons."

"Why can't I stand?" His mandibles quirk. I realize he's confused.

It's not obvious? I'm mean surely he can see how he towers over me, and pretty much everyone "You're just really…tall." My voice drops. Lame. I've never had to tell anyone that they might just be too tall for my mom. She just gets nervous about big, tall…things. That and rollercoasters. I have lived a sheltered childhood. Not even a Ferris wheel…

"Alien. Yes. That." Kahlo's mandibles fold, and his brown eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at me thoughtfully, "Has she not met a sangheili before? Unngoy?

"No, and no." I've actually always wanted to meet an unngoy. They look small and cute on vids…and yes I realize they're probably the same height as I am, but still. Maybe it's the short squat-ness of them?

"Should I stay upstairs?" He asks.

"Of course not." I say this the same moment I think it. He's risking his life for me. It would be monstrous to hide him away like some dirty little secret. Kahlo doesn't deserve that level of disrespect, and frankly no one does.

"Just…be aware she's never seen anyone like you before. She's also going to be a bit concerned, _okay_ , really concerned, about the whole criminal thing." I draw in a long breath and it comes out slowly, "She's going to be peeved enough about me not telling her. I just didn't do so well with Leanne, and she's my friend. Mom's not going to understand."

There's a heaviness on my shoulder, enveloping it entirely. I know it's Kahlo's hand. I can see his long fingers falling over the arm of my shoulder. A random memory takes residence in my mind. His wrinkles make me think of that day, when mom took me to see the elephants at the zoo. His hand really does look like a darker elephant skin, but his palm is a much warmer brown and you can see it in-between his fingers too, swimming between the cracks of deep black. I was surprised at how smooth they are, only lightly calloused on the edges.

"Mothers care." Kahlo's voice is a warm rumble and his breath tickles my hair against my cheek as he leans over me, "It is their way. She may be angry, but it is only because she is concerned. That is a trait of a good mother."  
I understand of course, but I'm not going to look forward to her screeching in my ear about keeping this all a secret from her. She's going to feel betrayed. I know how my mom is. I could imagine being the same way. I hate it when mom tries to keep secrets from me. Like the one time our couch was repossessed to pay off a bill and mom had lied, and told me it had been stolen. Being an overly insistent nine year old, I had promptly rushed to phone the police and she had told me the truth then, snatching the phone away before I could dial. I had cried, accusing her of not trusting me.

Even now the memory has me flinching. Kahlo's fingers retreat and he moves to stand in front of me. I'm surprised when he leans over me, his dark eyes meeting my own, "I will stand with you and explain the situation." His mandibles flick again, and I swear I see something akin to amusement in his expression, "Or sit, if you prefer."

Ignoring the tingling in my cheeks, my lips twist into a small uncertain smile, "Yeah. Thank you." I don't know why I always feel embarrassed when I look into his eyes. It's like he opens up layers in me, and I feel…naked. I just can't explain it. I don't know if it's this alien side of him. Like I'm trying to be representative of humanity…though I'm not and I'm sure he's seen plenty of other humans before.

Does he think I look weird when I blush? Like ugly weird? I think of such crazy things…but I'm glad he thinks it's endearing. The whole, I change colors to express how I feel, thing. To me it's like putting up large printed signs explaining everything I think and feel in excruciating detail. That's just embarrassing.

"You're reddening again." Kahlo points out.

A hot wave washes over my cheeks. Oh boy.

00oo00oo00oo00

That night, after a dinner of ramen, fried sausage and steamed cabbage, Kahlo follows me carefully upstairs.

The first time we did this, climbing the stairs together, I had been terrified our combined weight would cause us to both crash through the floor, but so far so good. There was only this terrible creaking each time Kahlo's weight situated itself on the steps, the sangheili trying his best to walk on the tips of his toes. His foot pads are long and wide, and make walking upward a challenge for him, at least _gracefully._

This is even more of a challenge when Clover decides to bound up the steps in a happy doggy huff, her lithe body slipping between Kahlo's legs and smacking my hip as she runs up past us.

At this displacement of my weight, I step back to maintain my balance.

I feel my heel slip off the step behind me.

I shriek and swing out an arm to try and catch onto the bannister. My hand falls short, but that isn't a problem, because I can feel Kahlo step up to me, no, against me, and I fall back onto him instead of down the stairs.

 _"Thanks Clover."_ I laugh, but it's uneasy, and I can feel the tremor on my lips. That falling feeling is always terrifying. How many people actually die falling down the stairs? That would be a terrible way to go.

"Your beast is quite energetic." Kahlo's voice rumbles into my back as he speaks. I realize I'm still planted against his chest and I quickly right myself, moving up a step. I turn back to smile at him.

Clover of course chooses to run past us down the stairs once again. I can feel his arm reach out to steady me.

"Yeah." I breath out slowly, just relieved that I'm still in one piece, "She's a handful. Lovable, but a little crazy sometimes. Thanks for the rescue."

Kahlo's mandibles spread in a smile, "It is my job." His eyes seem to darken as he looks at me, "And my honor."

I smile, knowing for certain from the heat on my face that I'm all flushed again. I just never expected so much…chivalry from him, heck, from any man. That's so rare to find these days. It just feels special.

Maybe even too special for average me.

Upstairs we head to our separate rooms, and I bid Kahlo goodnight before moving to retire to my room. I'm exhausted, even though all we really did a lot of today was talk and watch television. We also cleaned house, and I got to teach Kahlo how to cook noodles and we both attempted to teach Clover how to bring back items we threw at her… which ended up in her running off with them to probably hide them in the laundry hamper again.

My room is tidy enough it probably looks like a show room in a neighborhood ad for real estate. I just don't hang out in here often enough, and the messiest area, if ever, is the desk in the corner of the room where my computer is. That's where most of my work from home gets done. That's all I usually do, and I just now realize how much time I have to myself. It's actually kind of nice, but if I wasn't with Kahlo I'm not sure how I'd spend it.

I sit on my bed and I think about the past few days. Kahlo is a really great housemate. He's tidy, quiet and polite. He's a great conversationalist actually too. Leanne and he had debated about different subjects for almost an hour and he loved to learn new things. He couldn't stop asking me about the books in my study. He found them fascinating, in their old bindings, and I admitted to my interest in collecting old publications. There's something special about the old written word. There's this feel to the pages, this earthy smell to them. It's stimulating.

I had asked him if he could read in our language, and he admitted he could not, and like a small child he had asked me to read to him.

I was eager to, and it was because, like I had noticed before, I had more time to actually read again. Maybe I do need to stop working so much. I remember how much I used to enjoy literature.

Enjoy leisure.

I had read him most of the classic novel written by an ancient Earth author named Tolkien titled, The _Hobbit_. It's a fantasy fiction story about a small human like creature who lives in a world of monsters and magic and realizes his potential for heroics. I love fantasy novels and historical dramas best actually.

Kahlo had asked about every little thing, and I found it wasn't annoying having to pause and explain things to him. It was endearing actually. Kind of like a book club, but with just me and Kahlo.

I giggled as I slipped off my shoes and socks, remembering how Kahlo had compared the hobbit race to the unggoy. He seemed fond of the idea of the two races being interchangeable, and had laughed when he shared the idea of an unggoy facing off fantastical creatures being such cowards that they were. Kahlo liked the cleverness of the main character too and the way the writer described the environments they adventured though.

It had been a fun day overall, even when Kahlo had burnt the first batch of ramen. He hadn't realized the pasta had to be covered in water and the noodles had stuck to the bottom of the pan. I had to quickly turn the overhead fan on high to keep from having the kitchen full of smoke and sending the smoke alarm screeching.

Overall, it's been fun. Nothing scary so far.

Now I can hear clover's footpads knocking on the steps as she comes up the stairs. There's the familiar creak of my door coming open and a doggy huff as she runs over to hop onto my legs, dragging half the comforter off onto the floor.

I make a face and sit up, bending to collect my fallen blanket while a satisfied looking doggy face moves towards me. I hold out a hand to collect her pointed face in my palm and she wetly buries her nose there and makes a soft 'whoof.'

"Woof." I say back and gently push her back onto the floor.

Soon I've gone through the cycle of getting teeth clean, slipping on a nightgown and brushing my unruly hair out before bed, preparing for yet another pillow-tussled hair morning.

"Up girl." I tell Clover, but she's already hopped onto the bedspread the moment I'm situated between the sheets.

I feel for the pull string of the table lamp near the bed and blink in the darkness. I smile as I feel Clover tuck her wet nose between my fingers, her long slick tongue parting the folds of my fingers.

Several minutes pass and I ease into the warmth of the mattress, Clover's hot body wrapped around one leg.

I'm an easy sleeper. It doesn't usually take long, and I feel as if I'm ready to blink out. But then there's something that interrupts the process.

A sound.

I perk up a bit in bed, pushing up on my butt to rest my head against the pillows stacked against my headboard. There's this sound. It's like a slight creaking.

Clover utters a soft whine, and I slip both legs out from under the sheets, the pads of my feet resting on the cold wood floor.

I freeze when I recognize the sound of steps on the stairs.

Someone is in the house. They're coming for me.

My eyes turn to the dark slit of the half-open door, and I imagine a body standing behind it, a perfect dark silhouette.

Suddenly the dark slit in the door widens as a body pushes though and I scream as it comes for me.

00oo00oo00oo00

My heart is in my throat, and I'm choking on it as I gasp, throwing my body back and away from the intruder.

Clover isn't being a protective canine companion, and I can see her face, tail wagging at me as I fall back off the bed and onto the floor.

I'm dizzy and my head hurts.

I moan and roll on my side, arms over the sides of my head, gripping the throbbing bump on the backside of my skull.

"Lacey!"

Kahlo?

I squeak as I'm suddenly pulled into the air.

In Kahlo's arms.

It's only him. I can see his face, his shape in the blue light from the window. It's Kahlo.

I'm an idiot.

"Lacey?" His warm breath fans my face and I wrinkle my nose at the slight stench of cabbage, "Are you alright?"

I wiggle a bit in his grip and I freeze when I feel his hand across my buttocks. Oh my.

"Um, Kahlo? Could you maybe?" I gasp as I try to reassert a more proper position, but it's like he just doesn't get it. Kahlo actually tightens his other hand on my waist, and as I'm readjusted in his arms I can feel a long finger prodding my thigh.

And yeah, a girl in a nightgown can feel pretty modest being held up like this. In the air.

"You're hurt." Instead of releasing me I gasp as he turns with me in his arms and rushes towards the bathroom.

"Kahlo!" I feel warmth on my head drop down to tickle my nose and I realize he's right. I damn well cut my head being a _moron._

Of course, In his urgency to get us both into the bathroom, he forgets his alien dimensions and I flinch as I hear and feel the thud of his head colliding against the top of the doorway.

He lurches back, one leg pushed backwards to catch his balance and I tumble against his chest as he curses.

"Are you okay?" I squeak. I look up towards his head, trying to crane over the length of his gaping mandibles to see the damage, "I'm so sorry!"

Instead of answering me, Kahlo continues into the bathroom, ducking this time as he enters.

Finally he bends to release me and I catch the sides of my gown as he does so to keep some amount of modesty intact. I can taste the blood now and I silently curse my stupidly as I wipe it on the sleeve of my gown. I must have smacked by head against the side of the bed when I fell.

Lights flicker on and water runs in the sink, and soon we are both treating one another. Kahlo sits on the edge of the bathtub, weight on his toes, as he gently presses a wet washrag to my head.

He insists on babying me. It actually reminds me of my mother, and then the headache returns when I recall that she's going to visit and yell at me in a day or two.

I stand between Kahlo's legs and brush my hand over his brow, and wince at the purple-red splotch glaring off the top, "It's just a bruise."

"Lacey, I frightened you. This is my fault." I flinch at the shame in his voice. He sounds like a beaten down puppy. Clover sits at our feet and actually tilts her head, looking puzzled, as if she thinks the same.

"Kahlo, it's not your fault." My voice is gentle, I'm really not upset about what happened. My head hurts, but I know he didn't mean to scare me. If anyone was to blame, it was my own paranoia. After three days, you'd think I would have gotten used to having someone else in the house.

Besides the fear of being knifed by some psychopath haunting my dreams.

The sangheili just makes a gruff unhappy noise at me, as if he is irritated that I won't accept him as the guilty one, "I should have announced I was coming in. If I had, you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

He placed a too-large hand on my shoulder and I feel the weight of it there, and even more so when he looks into my eyes. They look dark with regret.

"I'm supposed to protect you." Kahlo says somberly, "But instead, I've damaged you myself."

I feel a prickle of irritation, and I push his hand away. I refused to let him continue. "You were not at fault. I'm an idiot, and a coward. My imagination ran off with me, and I tumbled off the bed because I rolled off it like a fool."

I draw out a long breath, "Listen." I smile at him, trying to ease back into 'blameless' territory. "Let's just pretend this never happened, alright?"

He grabs one of my hands gently and rolls one of his large fingers across it. I didn't expect him to, and I watch his large warm hand envelop mine, "Forgive me Lacey. I did not mean for you to get hurt. I promise it won't happen again."

I laugh lightly. Kahlo's sweet, I hope he knows how much I appreciate it, "You can't promise that. I'm a klutz, it's bound to happen again."  
My heart thuds in my chest as his hand pulls me against his chest. I feel his own heart thudding against my palm. He regards me with those serious dark eyes, mandibles tight against his face, _"_ It won't happen again." He promises.

There's something about the intensity of his voice. It's the dangerous confidence of it that has chills dancing across my spine.

And I believe him.

00oo00oo00oo00

The next morning we're sitting together in the kitchen, knee to knee. His legs are just that long. I find it amusing still, but I'm also a bit unhappy that it's kind of an inconvenience to him.

"Kahlo, do you want me to get you some furniture?" I ask over toast, my hand moving over the table to replace the cap on the jam jar.

"I don't require it." He says. He has already eaten five pieces of bread slathered in jam, and was already coating another piece thickly, the knife looking ungainly in his huge fingers. He handles the blade good regardless, with this sort of nimbleness, and I recall that he is a swordsman.

I stifle a laugh when I imagine him fighting off bad guys with a butter knife.

He looks at me, "What is amusing?" He sounds curious.

I just smile, "Hey Kahlo, can you throw swords too?"

He just looks confused, his mandibles flaring out almost helplessly, "What? You cannot throw a sword. Do you mean a _Kuvu?"_ Alien word. It sounds like either Kubu, or Koo-voo. I guess translators can't cover every part of the language.

"What is that?"

He seems to understand my intent now, and holds up the small butter knife. I actually can't help but wince at how easy he does this, "This is similar." He explains, "But ours have larger grips. They are meant to reconcile sangheili with the memory of our ancestors, we merely use kuvu to perform with during ceremony."

"What do you throw them at?" That is fascinating. I wonder what kind of parties they throw. Puns. Gotta love puns.

"We set up targets, but sometimes younger males will form hunting parties to pursue edible meat. The respectable quarry is dangerous to pursue, but it is a great honor to make a kill and bring the meat to a feast for all the village."

"Have you used them, the kuvu I mean?" He does handle that knife pretty well.

Kahlo then proceeds to flip the knife into the air. I can only watch it for a second before it's in his other hand. No time to react. That was quite possibly the coolest thing I have ever seen.

"A few times." He smiles with his mandibles, "I joined a hunting party once. I prefer the long blade to the kuvu though."

I hold out my hand for the knife and he places it in my fingers. I smear more red jam across another slice of toast. We literally have a whole plate of just toast. I should probably try a bacon and eggs morning one day just for Kahlo to experience 'real breakfast' foods.

"You could just throw knives, err, -kuvu at people and then be done with it. You wouldn't have to get close to them." I say. Because it makes sense to me. Why would you want to get close to some crazy jerk who wants to kill you?

Kahlo's mandibles tuck a bit and I notice he looks stern with me again. I sigh, and put down the knife. We always disagree on at least one thing a day.

"That is not the way of the honored warrior." Kahlo says firmly, "Only a coward would fling kuvu, a hunting tool, at his rivals. My blood is that of my fathers and his fathers, and we have never used kuvu as tools of war."

"The covenant used guns." I snap my mouth closed, but it's already out. I open it again, but I don't know what to say.

Kahlo speaks for me.

"Yes, the prophets of lies and death properly equipped my people for the slaughter of countless billions." Kahlos' voice doesn't sound angry, just pained. I stare at the table at my folded hands as he continues.

"We were tools then. Tools that did not question the wielder and that merely performed as they were made to in war." Kahlo's tone became bitter, "We were displaced from our past, and molded into tools. We performed atrocities at the command of masters who sent us out like dogs to murder and burn."

"This past is why I am who I am today." Kahlo continued, "I will never be able to wipe away the sins of my family, and the sins of my race."

I need to speak now, because I can't hold back. This is just too serious a conversation, and I just don't understand how Kahlo could feel this way. He wasn't there. It wasn't his fault.

"You've told me this before Kahlo." I say quietly, "I understand that you feel guilty for the past, but it wasn't your fault. You don't have to redeem yourself for something you had no part in."

Kahlo stands, and the chair smacks the linoleum with a crack. I flinch as his shadow falls over me, "You don't understand." His voice is like a growing thunder, and I realize he is growling underneath his breath. I don't know if I should feel afraid or not, but right now I'm only confused.

He holds up a hand, the hand that was just holding my own the night before. I now recall the feel of his hearts beating against my palm. Kahlo has so much heart, and I can see it now, burning fiercely in him.

I'm afraid, but not of him, for him.

"This hand was given to me by Haduvee Modem, an old father." Kahlo's voice is low, but intense. Angry, "His blood is my blood. He served as a shipmaster during the war. _Unrelenting Pursuit._ And they were relentless in their mission. He murdered countless people on command."

"Mother told me of his crimes." Kahlo said slowly, painfully. I grip my fingers together tightly.

"He swore that we were cursed until we could redeem ourselves for our mistake." Kahlo recounted, "We were all told stories about how he tore his clothes from his body and wept at my mother's feet. Like a child." His voice was thick with disgust.

Kahlo breathed in deeply, "And the sangheili were like children once. I won't be misled again. _We won't be."_

He grows silent and I listen to the sound of his breathing. My eyes see the dip of his shoulders, the slack look of his mandibles. He looks tired. But angry. I can see the simmer in his eyes and in the heaving of his shoulders, the twitching of his two long fingers, the smaller ones pinched between them.

I get up then, and I don't ask his permission. I don't say anything.

I open up my arms and I wrap them around one massive shoulder. I'm not shy, I'm emotional, and impulsive, but it feels right. I know it probably looks awkward, he's so big, and I'm so small, but it works.

I rest my head on his large shoulder, and I feel the thunder of his twin's hearts moving against my hand. Like war drums pounding.

Kahlo's hand finds mine, and I feel like I'm surrounded by one big thundering heart as we continue this big, albeit awkward, embrace.

I'm embarrassed as I pull away, more out of reflex from Kahlo suddenly turning to gaze at me. I realize now what I've done. How do my actions define me in his culture? Was what I did taboo? Do sangheili even hug at all?

Oh gosh, what is its intimate only, what if-?

"You have a good heart Lacey." Kahlo looks into my eyes and my thoughts disperse as soon as they had come into being. His hand pulls my chin up and I flush as he regards me with those large coffee bean eyes again.

"You have two….err, big, great ones too." I could smack myself as soon as that babble came out, but I'm too busy being stiff and red faced to move.

Kahlo just smiles and we separate. I stand there awkwardly while he merely stares.

"I will let your beast out. I can hear her at the door." Kahlo's hand lingers before he pulls away. I had forgotten it was even in his grip. He looks at me a final time before leaving the room.

I exhale slowly. I feel cold as soon as I realize just how hot we were together.

Ugh.

 _Some things are not meant to be spoken out loud…_

 **Yeah, sorry guys, just another touchy feely chapter. Haven't gotten into the intense bits yet, still trying to fill out that part for the best effect. Hope you guys enjoyed nonetheless…and yay! I'm still alive…and updating. Sorry it took so long, college is taking my time once again.**

 **Until next time.** **Let me know how you guys felt about this chapter. I enjoy reading your comments. If there are any errors…sorry, I probably should reread these things at least three times. And yeah, sexy sangheili should have to carry female characters around. It's kind of hot…moving on. XD Hope you enjoyed!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

There's a racket at the door, and Clover sounds off in alarm with her crazy barking. She wheels around my legs and I try not to trip on my journey to answer it. There is no doubt whatsoever. I know it's my mom. I can hear the metal clicking against the door. She likes to wear at least one mood ring and a faux diamond on her right hand. It's just part of what makes mom…mom.

I know we had discussed it, and now she's here, but I'm already swallowing back the bitter taste in my mouth, my heart a distant but hurried beating in my ears. Kahlo is sitting on the sofa, leaning back into the cushions. He is slouching, trying not to appear quite so big and has a pile of pillows around his hips. His large two toed feet are splayed out around my small coffee table. Considering his size, he looks comfortable.

My only concern is how my mom will react when she sees him. To my knowledge, she has never met an alien before, and I know a lot of people are afraid of sangheili specifically. Many families have had history with the human-covenant war and had passed on their fear and prejudices against covenant races, and most seemed to recall a strong sangheili presence, which is unsurprising considering they were the first race to fall under the sway of the 'prophet's' manipulations.

Kahlo's people were and still are strong and capable. The whole war was one giant misunderstanding that became a desperate struggle between races that didn't see a bigger picture.

Hopefully mom is more open to understanding him than judging him for something he had no part in. I know she's going to have a hard enough time understanding me. I suck in a deep breath and Kahlo's dark eyes meet mine for a moment before I turn to answer the door.

The moment I do my mutt dog comes running past me to jump mom's legs. She loves mom, she was her 'dog mommy' first.

"Girl!" Mom cries out, joyous enthusiasm, her arms spread out to receive the dog, "How are you and Lacey doing?" Clover launches herself into mom's arms and I watch with a half-smile as mom receives wet dog kisses under her chin.

Mom's hair is pressed up into a tidy bun, not a hair out of place. She's always worn her hair like this, and she once told me it was a habit from working at the hotel because all employees had to abide a strict dress code.

Our hair color is different, hers brown, mine black, but we share the same blue eyes, although hers are not quite as dark. The lines around her eyes crease when she laughs as Clover snags a quick lick at her ear.

She looks like she's in a good mood. Hopefully that doesn't stagnate quickly.

I smile with my teeth, wiping my sweaty palms across my jeans. I probably look as fake as I feel. I don't plan on muddying up the truth. I'm praying this all goes well, but my mom isn't always easy to read. I'm not sure how she's going to react to the alien in the living room, or about the truth of this whole situation. Especially the keeping secrets from her part…

"Hi mom. You're earlier than I expected."

Mom straightens up after fluffing up Clover's ears, the dog padding away with a happy snort, "Better late than never. Believe it or not, there was traffic." Mom looks at me, as if noticing something on my face, "What's wrong?"

Well, there it is. "Nothing is wrong. I just have something to tell you." My voice cracks and I can see her arc an eyebrow up in response, her lips pursing.

Mom stares, "You're not pregnant are you?" She's staring at my stomach of course, looking for any evidence of the non-fact.  
My cheeks flush and I self-consciously cross my arms over my belly. "No. Of course not."

Mom grins at my flustered look, I can see the sparkle of mischief in her eyes, "Ok, ok. Just save it for marriage. A babe is a big responsibility. Just make sure the guys not some kind of slop."

Mom would know best, being a single mom. She did raise me by herself. Dad just didn't want to stick around I guess. Maybe that's why I find it so hard to date. Just expecting something just as disappointing to happen with any guy. I don't want that, and any kids I have eventually, will deserve better.

"Ok, mom." I take a deep breath. "I have to tell you about someone important."

"So there is a man?" Mom frowns looking a bit concerned, and then she quirked her lips into an easy smile. Her eyes move over my shoulder, her chin tilted. She surprises me by taking a step, still searching with her gaze, "Is he here?" I'm surprised at how hopeful her voice is.

"No!" I practically yell, and I clear my throat as mom looks at me, blinking in surprise, "No." I say again softly, "Something happened at work, and I have someone staying with me for a while. His name is Kahlo."  
"What happened?" _Concern._ Better get this over with.

"I'll tell you." I say, "But first I need you to meet Kahlo."

"Kahlo?" Mom smiled, "Is he from an island nation? I swear I've heard a similar name before. It sounds exotic." She gave me a playful look, her lips grinning. She looks eager to chat me up with some mom and daughter bonding thing, meeting the 'exotic' specimen of a man I have hiding in my apartment.

She just has no idea how 'exotic' he really is.

I sigh, because what can you feel is positively going to happen in this situation, "Follow me, and promise you won't freak out." I'm pleading in my tone, and mom notices.

Now she's frowning, her eyebrows cinched, "What's going on Lacey?"

A voice cuts through the air and I'm already tense as I begin to turn to regard him. My mom makes a noise like a splutter, her breath catching in her throat.

"You must be Lacey's mother. It is a great honor to meet you. I am Kahlo 'Modem, your daughter's guardian."

00oo00oo00oo00

"Dammit Lacey, you just couldn't come clean over the phone, could you?"

I could have foreseen this, mom does like to overreact to everything. Admittedly, this is no minor issue, but still…I saw it coming.

"Mom." I raise both hands to my front, as if trying to placate a wild animal, except this one won't bite it will just scream at me a lot, which is just as bad, probably, "This situation is handled. It's no big deal."

"No big deal?" Mom's voice is pitchy with her hysteria. "You are apparently being targeted by a crime syndicate, were actually hospitalized, and have been hosting an alien in the apartment, and you didn't think to even once tell me about it?"

That is fair. I can't believe I spouted the hospital bit…

"Listen—."

Kahlo merely watches from his position against the doorway as we continue arguing, one of his long legs resting idly against the shoe rack. He doesn't offer anything in the way of speech, which I'm glad for at the moment. Mom can only take so much at a time, and I've thrown a full plate at her.

A few more minutes before Mom suddenly pulls me into a hug. I expected it eventually. Moms a hugger. Which sure beats everything else at this point.

"He can't stay here." Mom whispers in my ear, loud enough that I flinch, because I know Kahlo has good hearing.

"Mom, he needs to be here. He was assigned to me… _by the government_." How many times do I have to play the government card? Seriously?

She pulls back and frowns at me, concern etched in the lines at the corners of her eyes. "They couldn't get a human?" I cringe as I hear Kahlo sigh.

"Seriously Mom, listen to yourself." Human or alien, it's still racism and I can't believe she would say something like this with Kahlo still in the room. He's not stupid and he's not an animal. I'm angry, for the right reason, and I'm not afraid to argue about it with her.

I'm a journalist for crying out loud, I'm used to arguing my points.

Mom purses her lips. She looks conflicted as she spins a ring around her finger distractedly. "Lacey, I'm just afraid for you. You don't understand how serious this is."

"Seriously? Mom, I think I understand." My voice is loud, but I don't care. I'm tired of arguing with her about this. "I've been freaking out about this for a while. Kahlo is keeping me safe, he's been protecting me since the beginning, and you talk about him like he isn't even here."

She looks stunned and I close my mouth. I've never seen this expression before, maybe I came out too strong? I have no regrets though, I know I'm right and I know mom is better than this.

"I'm sorry." Her face falls, she gives me a regretful look and then her eyes move past me. "Kahlo, is it? I apologize if I've offended you. I just get upset sometimes and my senses leave me." She sighs deeply, "It was wrong."

He steps away from the wall and regards her with a slightly dipped posture. "It's fine, I understand your concern. I promise I will not let my guard down around your daughter."

Mom's head dips in understanding, and I see something like appreciation in her quick smile, though she also looks a little wounded, tired maybe. I feel bad again, because I did withhold the truth, which is just as bad as outright lying.

"Mom." I suck in a quick breath. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just didn't want you to worry."

She turns to smile at me, her eyes looking sad. "Honey, it's my job to worry about you. I just wish you told me about this earlier, I could have helped." I sincerely doubt that, at least when it comes to protecting me from the forces of evil. I don't want mom getting into trouble, this is my problem, and I don't want her getting hurt or trying to sacrifice herself for me like parent's do in dramas.

"I'll be fine." I insist, because I feel more okay now than I did when this whole thing first started. Kahlo's not just a guardian, he has also become a friend. I enjoy his company and I can say with certainty, I trust him with my life.

Mom pulls me into a hug. I sigh as I rest my head on her shoulder and bury my nose into her hair. She smells like apples, and I close my eyes, remembering a long ago memory when we made an apple pie together. I hadn't realized how much I missed her.

We part a moment later and Mom is smiling at both me and Kahlo now, "So, where am I bunking?"

What?

00oo00oo00oo00

For the hundredth time, we're arguing. Well, I'm arguing, and Mom is just going on her merry way.

She and Kahlo are setting up a place downstairs for her. To sleep.

This definitely isn't going the way I wanted.

"Mom, you have a job. You can't just move in with me." I complain, and it is complaining. My voice is stretched by my complaint, breaking, and I'm not getting anywhere. I can see it in her expression as she looks back at me, cushions in her arms. Kahlo is busy hauling extra blankets from upstairs.

"I called in my vacation time." Mom said simply, disregarding the pained look I know is on my face as she continues placing cushions on the sofa. "I expected to stay with you for more than a day. Lacey, I flew out here. Do you know how expensive it is to fly?" Hah, gifted ticket my foot.

I don't want her living here with me, I'm certain she's going to insist on staying longer now that she knows what's going on. I'm not a child, I don't need looking after. I already have Kahlo, and now he's going to have to guard me _and_ Mom.

"I'm…I'll be right back." I head for the kitchen. I can't talk to her anymore, or be in the same room. I'm just so annoyed right now. I love her, I have missed her, but I hate the feeling of being suffocated.

I'm not a child, yet she still insists on treating me like one. She always coddles me, and I appreciate that she cares but I don't need coddling. How is Kahlo supposed to do his job with her…interfering?

I pull a glass from the cabinet above the sink and turn on the faucet. I sit down at the kitchen table and hug the glass between my hands. I take a long drink after a moment, letting the water sit on my tongue before swallowing.

The window of the kitchen is dark, and I can see a white glare off the glass from the street lights beyond my yard. There is also that peaceful cricket sound I always here.

Well, there usually is. I still for a moment, sitting the water glass down carefully. I don't hear them tonight. Usually there are sounds of locust and crickets singing, but it's a sleepy sort of quiet. Their sounds are absent…I can only hear Mom faintly asking Kahlo a question in the other room.

I hear clicking though as Clover taps into the kitchen. I feel her long tail thump against my leg and her nose rest against my thigh.

Then I hear a growl.

"What is it girl?" I scoot the chair back a little and look down at her. I can see the white standing out at the corner of her eyes. She rolls her eyes at me for a moment, showing her teeth again, slicking a long pink tongue over it once before whining.

Something isn't right, I can just feel it. There's this tremor in my chest, and going up and down my spine. This shiver of unease. Clover is growling again, this time she's looking to the window.

I feel a stab of fear as I twist around to look towards the window. I can just imagine someone staring at me on the other side. I feel even more vulnerable in my sleeve-less top and sleeping shorts and I hug myself as a chill starts in my spine. My eyes go the window.

But there's nothing there. I stand up carefully, still peering at the dark glass as I walk around the table and closer to the entryway. Clover continues growling, and I know there has to be a reason for it. She never shows aggression like this, fear like this.

I want to call for Kahlo, but I'm afraid to make a sound. It really is that quiet in here, and I don't want to break the silence, because then I will stand out in the emptiness.

I don't want the monsters to find me.

 _You're just imagining things._ Maybe Clover is just hearing a raccoon. We had an incident once with our trash…

I'm not sure. I feel creeped out anyway, so I move to leave the kitchen.

There's a loud smashing sound and I spin around just to see the glass from the window shatter against the counter. An object spins as it smacks against the kitchen table. The water glass jumps off the table from the impact and sends glass in wet shatters across the linoleum.

I'm already screaming in shock, and I can already hear everyone else reacting in the other room to the sound of the glass breaking.

"Are you ok-?" Mom walks in looking concerned. Kahlo is not far behind.

Suddenly there's a sound like a sizzling and I see the object that had been tossed into the window beginning to smoke. It starts out as a few puffs, and then smoke hisses out in torrents.

It's happening so quickly. I can smell a sickly sour scent, almost sweet as it sticks to my face. I can feel the hot hiss of the smoke as it wraps around my body.

I can also suddenly feel my feet leaving the ground and my body thrown over something thick but warm.

I'm out of the kitchen and in the laundry room before I realize that Kahlo has tossed both me and my Mom over his shoulder.

He carefully but swiftly releases us, sitting us on our feet. I'm a bit dizzy from whatever was in the smoke, and a little delirious. This can't actually be happening. I didn't expect it to. These past few days everything has been fine.

Why is this happening to me?

I take a seat on the floor because I can't find stability standing as the ground seems to spin under my feet. I also feel a little like laughing and I'm not sure why.

I think I'm going insane. I could cry, but instead I'm just sitting on the floor and letting Mom hold me. I can feel her stroke my face gently, and I hear her whisper in my ear, but I can't make sense of the words. I can feel a tear tickle my nose and I smile at the sensation.

I could vomit. Nothing _feels_ right.

Kahlo begins to close the door, I can see his legs in the doorway though his form is muddy to my vison. What is wrong with my eyes?

"Stay here, do not leave this room." His voice is assertive, commanding. I can see his own eyes gleaming in the low light. "I will deal with this intruder. No matter what happens, stay here."

I obey, only because no matter what happens, it's all out of my power.

I'm fading away fast, into a sleep that's making my limbs feel heavy, and my eyelids heavier. I gasp out something, a sound like regret and joy mixed together. I can hear Mom crying out a prayer into my ear as she holds me close.

I fade into yet another darkness, incoherent, and I'm dreaming somehow. Of apple trees and Kahlo's beautiful sword. He is holding it up to the sun, and it's a heavenly sort of light. He proceeds to cut an apple free from a branch, and somehow the branches are reaching out for us. It rolls into my lap perfectly and I hold it up to my face.

It's perfect and vibrant with not a blemish. Everything here is so saturated, glowing. I look to Kahlo and I see his alien skin under the light, and I see he's in full armor. There's something beautiful about the way his armor glows in the sun. He looks like some sort of alien angel. There's this halo of light that wraps around him, around the both of us.

It smells like home. It feels like home. I'm tired, a sleepy kind of tired, and I lean back against him as I take a bite of the fruit. He's warm and I let him fold his arms over my body as I feel my breath quiet, and the bit of apple slip down my throat and disappear like the rest of me.

00oo00oo00oo00

 **Kahlo**

 **00oo00oo00oo00**

Lacey is not like any human I have ever met. She is not afraid of me, but she seems afraid for me. I had hurt myself by my own error, and she had shown concern. Lacey had been bleeding, but at that moment, she had not noticed her own hurt, but that of my own.

It is flattering but also strange. Sangheili haven't always taken to medicine so easily. In the old ways, it was considered shameful to bleed in company, but now we understand that it is a foolish notion.

Life is what is sacred, what must be protected.

She had worried over me like some mother. If she had known of my injuries as a child, I think she would be shocked. It is our way to test our abilities at a young age. We mature fast in body and in mind. We choose to measure both with equal capacity.

In 'Modem keep, on the edge of the Gracian Sea, we still hold onto old traditions, while trying to bring back forgotten memories of a time when sangheili were self-dependent.

I fought with my brothers and sisters in the great garden courtyard of our home. The keep stretched around in many rings, keeping us safe at the center. I received bruises and scars from my siblings and of those from neighboring keeps. There was pain, aching, but we fought through these, and we paced ourselves.

We tested our strengths and pit our cunning against one another, but we also sought to become one body, one force to keep our family safe. We were proud to stand together.

Haduvee 'Modem was a great-great grandfather of mine, and many of my siblings. Some keeps, like ours, had decided to allow younglings to know their fathers. The war had brought so much darkness over our people, and at least this should be made clear. Others were adamantly oblivious but I am glad to know my family truly.

On the eve of the end of the war, we share stories of old, of the destruction of our ways and the rebirth of the sangheili.

The most told story was of Haduvee and his awareness of his guilt. It was meant to express that the sangheili were misled and in doing so, had almost been destroyed as a people utterly. There was much philosophy in the keeps near the Gracian Sea, as we were born from strategists and monks of the old religion. We forced ourselves to understand the destruction we had wrought against humanity and put ourselves in their place, as we had suffered our own losses, though not to quite a degree.

It was often believed to have been worse, being inspired and given meaning to life, only to find misdirected faith. Humanity had lost many billions, but much of the sangheili confessed they had lost their soul. Their sense of being, their reason for existing. In being a part of the covenant, of something bigger, they had felt more in control of their destiny than ever before.

But that had changed with the end of the war, with the relinquishment of truth.

Haduvee's story reminded us that we had almost lost everything, that we had been used as tools of destruction and in seeking faith, we had been blindsided by betrayal.

"We are surely cursed." Haduvee had said. "I should die, die with them. They are lost to me, and I have lost everything."

"No, you won't die. You have not lost." My great elder mother was said to have responded calmly, revealing her stability, and her womanly wisdom. Women were often proud of speaking with their husbands, being his confident. It was a high compliment to be referred to as 'honored' wife or mother, and she was the wisest and most honorable in all our stories. "You will live, for me, and for your family. If you die now, you will die a coward, and unredeemed." She had told him.

"I cannot live in a world without faith, without meaning. This war has taken so much from me, from our people. We were united by our beliefs, and now we have nothing but bodies broken by a war no one could hope to win." His voice is bitter in the story, voiced by the story teller, or mother. Good stories are told with emotion. Lacey tells wonderful stories, she has the storyteller's voice.

The great elder mother had bared her mandibles, fangs glinting in the soft lantern light. "On your feet Haduvee." She had said strongly, "I will not have you shame yourself. You are not a hatchling."

At this point in the story, there was laughter from the little ones, but only a somber silence from my older siblings and cousins. We knew how the story ended. How Haduvee and his strong loving wife had tried as one of the first keeps to open positive connections with humanity.

There had been a short but deadly civil war, and a coward's virus, a bomb, had been unleashed upon the keeps around the Gracian Sea. Modem, Kuren, and Gafan were affected. This disease was brutal in chemistry and intent. It was a crippling disease that bent the legs of the young and destroyed the lungs of the adults. Many sangheili mothers had to weep as their children were killed in front of them, by the virus and by merciful relatives who could not stand idle while their young screamed for the pain to stop.

Sangheili fighting sangheili. Others had wanted to destroy us, the human sympathizers, and were angry at the fact that we had begun sending supplies to colonies as a sign of good will to humanity. It had taken the Arbiter and his famous Swords to stand up for our keeps, to stop the fighting and save the remnant of our people and those of our neighbors.

Today we tell these stories with the hopes of learning from our mistakes and understanding that the right thing isn't always easy to do.

Humanity had sent agents of peace after the virus was purged and our people were healing. They had shown us the same goodwill we had given before, and together, we healed one another.

Lacey did not understand my pain, she did not understand that it is not in my way to be a coward, to disregard my keep's philosophy. We were raised to hate Haduvee, though he had brought change, it was the great elder mother, Lateen, who directed him, who was the symbol of order and redemption. He had felt great loss from the war but had participated in it, had taken many thousands of lives. It was his wife who picked him up off the ground and reminded him of the true way.

I left my world with the sole intent of representing my people's good intent towards humanity. Now we are active in trade with one another, and Modem has seen great wealth and prosperity. It only proves that we are stronger together. In being here, I bring honor to my keep.

The agency that I work with planned on placing me with a security order on a senate member of a local council who had received death threats, but instead I found myself walking into a room with Agent Clint and a tiny human female.

I had recognized her instantly, and it had taken me a moment to realize she had been the woman attacked by the kig-yar extremist. I knew she too remembered me, as I could see it in the widening of her eyes.

We have very similar facial expression, although the mouth parts react differently than human mouths to emotion, but we can still read the soul, that much we do have in common.

Her dark eyes, some kind of blue, like a night sky on water, were full of fear. She trembled and I could smell her perspiring lightly under her thin clothes.

I wanted nothing more, in that instant, to protect her from any force in the universe. She reminded me strongly of one of my sisters. She was small, like a child in its middle years and her voice was distinctly female. It was an almost instinctive reaction to her small fragile appearance.

She needed a guardian, and I was more than willing to take up the mantle. I knew it would be the honorable thing to do, and I had never had the opportunity to work so closely with a human female before.

Lacey was not what I expected. She was not afraid of me, as I thought she might be. Even some human males react to my presence with anxiety, but she hadn't.

She is openly curious about my ways, about my history, and doesn't mind sharing her table and her home with me.

My first job was with a business man whose heart had failed him at the second year of my guardianship. He had made many foreign governments angry with his dealings and had sought protection from any assassination attempts on his person. There had been nine, but I had dealt with them all easily.

It was a position of honor and well paid, but the man had not offered to share his space with me, instead seemed to enjoy ordering me around, and made me order my own food and eat in the spare room, alone. I did not particularly enjoy the company of such a man, but I did feel lonely for a while, wishing I could communicate easily with one of my brothers or sisters. Such a long reaching device does not send messages quickly, and it was a stagnant wait.

I had hoped to have new experiences on this world, but all I had felt was collared to habits that were forced upon me by the ungrateful man I was assigned to. He rarely talked to me but to order me around.

To say I was upset at his passing, would be a lie, a shameful lie, but an undeniable fact.

Lacey was a breath of Spring. We have been together for many days and I can't say I don't enjoy her company. I have learned so much about her, and I have enjoyed our time together. I can say I don't feel ready to leave.

The idea makes me uncomfortable. I don't know how Lacey has been living alone for so long. She is a small woman and a little clumsy. I had panicked when she had slipped down the stairs earlier and hadn't been willing to release her from my arms.

Now I regret letting her leave the room.

I hear a sound like glass cracking and a piercing scream. Lacey's mother rushes ahead of me and I curse under my breath as she beats me to the kitchen. I cannot be expected to protect anyone when they run into danger, but like a mother, she is only showing concern for her daughter.

The daughter I am meant to protect. Why had I left her alone? Had I grown too comfortable at rest these past few days? _I'm a fool._

Someone had thrown what appeared to be a smoke bomb through the glass of the window. It had already been affecting Lacey as I held her in my arms. I could see it coming over her eyes, like a fog. There was more than smoke in that object, and I prayed that it wasn't a virus. I could feel my hearts shudder at the vision that idea awakened. I thought back to dying children, of the virus that had almost destroyed my home totally, and I imagined Lacey contorting under me, blood frothing from her mouth, the life misting from her eyes.

I could not fail. _I will not._

I race out of the room with Lacey and her mother thrown about my shoulder, more worried about getting them out of that room than worrying about anyone's comfort.

It has finally happened. At attack on Lacey's life, and I am terrified.

Something is wrong with her. Her expressions are muddled, confused, she seems almost unaware of where she is. As I rest her on her feet in the back room, she cannot keep her legs straight. She trembles and she slips to the ground, she makes a strange sound, one that fills me with dread.

Is she doing to die? I don't know what to do, but one thing is certain. He is still out there, and I have to find him. Him, her, them, whoever has done this, I will cleave out their organs. Even now I can feel my blade in my grip, the heat of the pommel as the plasma shoots up the end and completes the twin points.

I move to the front door with urgency in my steps. If they run, I will not desist, I will follow. I will make them wish they had never come to this home, and I will cut the truth from their tongues and ensure that Lacey has no enemies alive to harm her.

I will not fail. That is one regret I cannot live with.

 **Okay, quick note, I changed a few things in chapter 5. This story is about 200 years after the covenant war, I mistakenly referred to Haduvee as Kahlo's father, but he is actually a great-great-great, something, so I fixed that. Sorry for any confusion. :D**

 **Hope you guys enjoyed. Sorry it took so long to get out.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

00oo00oo00oo00

 **Kahlo**

I snort and step around the bend in the room, clearing the acrid scent of the poisonous smog from my nostrils. Cowardly. This creature must be human, or kig-yar. It cannot be sangheili.

If they are, I will fight them too. They cannot be allowed to escape.

The blue light of my blade scatters the shadows at the four corners around me as I slip through the threshold into the next room. The room is quiet, but I can still hear the whimpering of the woman in the other room, the sounds of a fearful mother.

Lacey is unconscious, and my teeth click as I remember how this came to be. I should not have left her alone. This would not have happened if I had stayed with her.

Shame, a trembling in my knees, but I can't let my anger and fear control me, even as I feel my lower mandibles shudder, teeth clicking against the upper tier, I continue forward, neck out, feet gliding carefully over the wood floor.

I move for the front door, prepared to face whatever is outside. I hope they don't try to run. I would like nothing more than to cut them down now and be done with it.

My long stride takes me past the stairs and towards the front door.

A punting metal noise and suddenly the entryway explodes in a storm of glass.

I purposely fall, turning one hip to drop into a roll, my body disturbing the carpet underneath, falling over my shoulder like a mantle as I scoot backwards towards the bottom of the stairs. I reach my feet, shrugging off the material and turn to face the window. Teeth of jagged glass glow under the streetlight, gleaming wickedly.

I crane my head and pause, wincing.

I clap a hand over my shoulder at a burning sensation, and fingers pull back to reveal the purple sheen of my blood. I grimace, mandibles splayed.

I wipe the stain off onto my leg. Merely an irritant. I step over the shards of glass that had been tossed at my feet, and continue forward.

I don't hesitate to pull open the door and step out, though the chill in the air reminds me that I am not fully equipped. My hardier armor is upstairs. I wear now, only thin plate, with a thinner leather at the skin.

If the enemy is armed, which is likely, they will have only that against me.

But they would do well to remember how swift sangheili are, especially one unburdened by full battle armor.

The street is empty but for two vehicles resting across the road. The neighbors seem unaware of the danger, and I spot no lights from their windows. I'm glad. Better to not encourage hostages in this situation.

There is a clattering noise and I curve my neck to regard the vehicle, what humans call a van.

I hear a soft sound, a quiet curse. Not soft enough.

I duck down, perched on splayed legs, and glimpse a long weapon barrel before it is quickly retrieved from the ground.

I don't hesitate. With a running leap I'm over the vehicle, sliding across the front, to tackle the figure to the ground.

He had lifted his head and his gun towards me as my shadow fell over him, but I had managed to jerk it out of his grip before he could fire.

The weapon crashes to the ground and I kick it away, forcing what I now see and smell as a male human, under my weight. He is fighting me with profane shouts and with a pathetic squirming, but is silenced and deathly still when a blue aura surrounds the both of us.

I pull back my shoulder and allow the edge of one prong of my blade to rest near his ear, the wider part sending a harsh light over his face. I see the whites of his eyes, his breath escaping in soft pants.

Definitely a coward, I'm almost disappointed, and then I remember Lacey, and I grimly acknowledge that the situation could be much worse.

My eyes draw across his torso and to his hips. I find what I am looking for, and rip it free. The pack is weighted, and I dump the contents onto the man's front, oblong shapes dropping down to bounce off onto the ground.

I select one with my free hand, holding it to my eyes in the light of the white street lamp above.

Smoke grenades. Unmarked. Simple black knobby forms, a crude human design. _Mercenary grade?_

"Fucking hinge head." The man almost spits, and I regard him again, almost amused by this sudden bravado. "You don-."

He does not seem to understand the positon he is in, and I turn my wrist to push my blade bodily against his neck and he screams piteously.

My upper mandibles gape in disgust.

I can smell it, sharp and acrid. I recoil with my neck and turn my nostrils up. The disgusting creature had pissed himself. _Of course._

"Please, don't!" He begs, and I'm tempted to finish him by the sheer disgust I am feeling at being in the presence of such a weak louse of a human.

That and he is the reason Lacey is unconscious, possibly hurt.

Remembering this prior event, I have to talk myself down from cutting off the ugly round ears peering out from the sides of his head.

If he does not cooperate, I plan on doing just that. Damn the protocols. I leer down at him, baring my mandibles. Humans tend to fear the serrated mouths of sangheili. A predatory trait that makes me feel like a hunter, with a small vermin beneath me.

"You will talk." I say quietly. "I will listen. If I don't like what you have to say, I will use crude but effective methods to ensure that you provide me with better information."

I give him a sangheili smile. It is closed off, but I can smell his fear still.

 _Too easy._

"We begin now."

00oo00oo00oo00

 **Lacey**

"Is she waking up? She's waking up. Can I not—"

I hear mom. It's her voice, and something is wrong. Her voice is pitchy, scared. My eyes slip open and I close them again. The light is bright, too crystal bright.

I groan as my senses return to me. My head feels foggy, my nostrils dry. I lift a hand up to reach for my face, to press fingers against my nose to relieve some kind of pressure at my head, and I feel a pull and a sting at my arm.

My eyes open and I'm not home. Definitely not home.

I'm at the hospital again.

 _Why?_

I look at my arm, and at the plastic band around my wrist. I see the middle name, and a few numbers. There's a needle taped into my arm, an IV.

"Lacey." I can hear the emotion in her voice before I turn to see the tears roll down her cheeks. Mom steps away from the doctor standing nearby and leans over my bedside. "Baby, I'm so glad you're awake."

I remember. I remember the kitchen window exploding in a flurry of glass, and the praying voice of my mother in my ear, her hot breath tickling my cheek.

"What happened?" Kahlo flashes into my brain, the events last night. Was it last night? How long have I been asleep?

I try to sit up and mom pushes out the pillows behind my head to assist me.

"Don't move too quickly. Dr. Rose says you're bound to be a bit light headed for a while. Nice and slow honey. That's it."

Soon I'm sitting on my rump, my head resting against the plastic bed rest, the gurgling of a machine catching my attention. I watch the little pump inside and the liquid drip in a stream to the smaller glass part below.

Poisoned again. I might as well rent a room here.

"Where is Kahlo?" I ask. Mom is well, but I don't see the sangheili anywhere. He had made us wait in the back room and then he had gone after the bad guy. That much I remember. All I can remember.

"He's fine." Mom is smiling, but her eyes look sad. "He arrested the man who did this to you. They have him in holding." She grabs up my hand in her own, and I let her, even as the chill of her fingers makes me shiver.

Why are hospitals so cold?

"You're awake. I'm glad."

I eagerly turn my head towards the doorway, where two nurses step bodily out of the way of the sangheili entering the room.

Kahlo is wearing the same light armor as that night, and seems uninjured, although there is a slight stoop to his posture. He steps around to the other side of bed, to my right, shadowing me.

I smile up at him. "Hey."

"How are you feeling Lacey?" He asks warmly, and he rests a hand on the cloth over my knee. "You have not been awake for many hours. I was concerned."

His hand is hot on my leg, heavy, with long splaying fingers. My eyes linger on the warm golden brown between his digits and across the side of his palm. He seems to notice me watching them, and pulls his hand back.

I'm disappointed. He wasn't really bothering me, and I look up to make sure he doesn't feel that way.

Kahlo isn't looking at me though, his head is turned towards mom.

"I have a request Miss Drake."

"Alright Kahlo." Mom smiles, though she looks uncertain in the quirk of her lips. "All ears. You did save us last night."

"We leave this city today."

I twist my neck sharply.

"What?"

I sit up fence straight, and I don't even wince at the IV's tug on my arm. "What do you mean Kahlo?" He can't mean move…I have a job here, a life. Friends...a career, well, not quite that developed, but the promise on the horizon.

I can't just pack up the dog and _leave._

His dark eyes are clear under the bright white light of the hospital room and I can see evidence of the dark reptilian arcs at the center. He releases a short exhale and lowers his head to regard me, equal with my eyes. "You cannot stay here Lacey. It is not safe."

"So they attack the house…did we not foresee that possibility?" I insist, "If you caught the guy, this is almost over, right? Home free and everything?"

Kahlo shares a glance with mom. They look worried.

"What?" My voice rises. "What are you not telling me?"

Mom squeezes my hand again, and makes a move to sit on the bed. I shift my leg to allow her room.

"Honey, last night there was also an attack at the studio office. They…burned it down."

Burned? What was burned? "Can't they just fix it up, I mean it can't be…" My voice trails off. The look on mom's face already tells me what I refuse to believe. I can't possibly…

"Employees are insured by the company, they can recommend you to another network if you like. Maybe put you in an editing position in my city."

"Mom. I'm not an editor, _I'm a writer_." The whine in my voice only weakens the argument. Of course I'm not. I never was. I wanted to be so much more, but now I wouldn't get that chance. All that work for nothing. Time wasted fixing other people's crap articles. Restless nights of resource research, piling on the hours, drunk on coffee alone…all that time, effort…

Nothing. It all came to _nothing_.

I wilt back into the pillows at my head. My eyes blink away the tears glaring in my eyes under the stern white hospital light. A big wake up call. One I hoped I'd never have to answer.

My voice is hoarse, I feel a soreness that wasn't evident until I began talking again, "I guess I have nothing left in this city but Leanne-oh my g-!"

"Leanne is fine Lacey!" Mom almost shouts, and she self-consciously flicks her gaze off to the side, suddenly aware that she was almost yelling. She turns back to me after smiling apologetically at the nearby staff. "She had no disturbances last night. She has security cameras, and told me no one attempted anything. She is in the lobby now if you want me to go get her."

"Please." My voice wavers, and I don't care to hide the tears in my vision. Why was this happening to me? We all have our moments of woe, but I was never the one for drama, especially when I was smack dab in the middle of it.

Would this nightmare ever end?

Mom leaves and it's just me and Kahlo. I meet his gaze again.

"Lacey, I know you are upset, but we have to talk about this." Kahlo says.

I don't really want to talk right now, especially not about that, "I can't just leave Leanne, this city. This is my city. I've lived here for years. This is part of my _plan_."

"Can you not make bigger plans?" Kahlo says. "You are living still. Can you not live somewhere else, and find a new way?"

I've never really been anywhere else, I felt that this was the place. Some of my biggest journalist heroes started here. A media hotspot, but how many opportunities were passed over me, held out of reach, taunting me like an animal? Making me question my own ability, my potential or lack of, for success. Could it really be so easy? Running away to start again?

Do I want this? I almost do. And this scares me.

Suddenly I feel my hand swaddled in warmth. Kahlo has taken my hand in his. My fingers curled against his palm. He's almost soft at the wrinkled turns of his skin.

His eyes meet mine again, "I believe in you. All you have to do is believe in me, trust me. I don't doubt you Lacey, you should not doubt yourself."

"Where will I go? How can I just leave Leanne behind? We've been friends for so long...I can't—" I continue to argue, although I feel my walls crumbling with each crack of my voice. I'm faltering. I'm giving in.

This is happening isn't it? Whether I want it to or not.

"We spoke." He says, and I stare up at him, incredulous. He continues, "She thinks it would be best. As you humans say, if you love something…you _release_ it."

"Let it go, yes." I say, but I don't feel confident. I'm afraid. We run, but when does it stop? What if we can't outrun this?

"Where will we go?" I ask Kahlo this, just as a voice calls my name, and I see Leanne rush into the room.

As Leanne throws her arms around me in a tearful embrace, Kahlo responds to my question.

"Sanghelios."

00oo00oo00oo00

"That's impossible. Do you even—how can…?" My voice drops again. I don't know what to say. How can anyone respond to that?

Sanghelios. Kahlo's home planet.

Moving out of city is something else, but a whole other _planet_?

That's insane. I can't be the only one who thinks this.

"They breathe oxygen." Leanne said. "Do you see Kahlo flopping like a fish? You can eat the same kinds of foods, they're omnivores…you can even—"

"That's not the point Leanne." I argue, too anxious to care that I've cut her off. "It's a planet, full of-" I feel a pang of regret, and I look towards Kahlo, but he is not looking back. He had walked a bit off to talk with mom. I can't see mom from where I'm sitting, his form shadows her.

They're probably conversing about their plans to ship me off world.

I feel bad that I had almost referred to Kahlo's people as 'aliens.' Even if that is true, from an outsider perspective, he doesn't feel like alien to me. He doesn't deserve being titled like that.

Of course, I'll be the alien once we're on Sanghelios.

The thought of being shadowed by beings as large as Kahlo, and maybe not as friendly, has me shivering under the thin hospital sheet.

Leanne sits by me again, and she begins to play with my hair. Fingers sifting the folds off my center part. This is a common ritual with the two of us. We have always behaved like sisters, and this realization makes my heart clench even tighter.

"Listen Lacey." Leanne says, her voice is sad, but sincere, "You're like, my best friend. We've been friends forever, but I want you to be safe. If the guy protecting you thinks you'll be better off, than I say, let's do it."

"So you're coming with me?"

Leanne pauses in her hair brushing. I hear her sigh, "Lacey, I'd love to, but I have to head out of the city myself. Personal business."

"What is it?"

"Mom is sick."

"You hate her." I don't mean it to sound harsh, but it's already out. It's true anyway. She told me that fact enough times. I can't imagine having a mom you hated so readily, but it was the situation for Leanne.

Leanne sits back against the wall. "She's my mom Lacey."

"I know. I'm sorry." I say. And I am. I'm sorry that we could never be true sisters, that she couldn't have a mom that did love her enough to stay, and that we would probably never see each other again.

Life really isn't fair.

00oo00oo00oo00

I didn't think it could get worse, but storm clouds like to block out the sun when I'm around.

I crouch and pull her head into my lap. I feel her doggy snout press up into my belly, and I want to cry again, like a child, being denied something else, once more.

"I'm sorry honey, I know this is hard." Mom is crying too. Tears sparkle in her eyes, and she flicks a finger at her nose as one disturbs the tip of it. She reaches for the leash and I allow her to take it.

Mr. Clint is standing nearby, an apologetic frown on his face. He had helped us sort through the documents, sign myself off to a new destination, a new life, one that was as uncertain as ever.

Clover wasn't coming with me. Foreign animals were not allowed on Sanghelios. She will have to stay with mom. I am leaving everything behind but a few over stuffed bags and a heavy heart that feels ready to burst.

Kahlo is holding his own belongings over his shoulder in a leather looking bag. The rest are already being hauled into the ship resting nearby.

He looks ready to move forward with all this, but I'm sick with grief, with fear, and the realization that soon I will be star bound. Stuck up in a black void, where up and down was so easily distorted. I've never left my planet. I've never left home…

I feel sick again, and I feel mom reach out to steady me as I try to trip on my feet again.

"Take the pills." Mr. Clint directs me again. "They will relax you."

 _Or you could try knocking me out. That might suffice._

"You will like my home Lacey." Kahlo says again. "I have already spoken with my mother, and my uncles. They will also be watching out for you. You will be safe with us."

"How long will I have to stay?" I ask again.

The same answer, "As long as it takes."

00oo00oo00oo00

 **Kahlo**

Sanghelios. Home.

Too long has passed, and I feel unprepared to return. Lacey needs this, and my family opening up to her presence, was so much more than I expected. Although many of us don't hate humanity, rather try to work together with them, there are a few rotten fruits among the good.

I just hope those fruits don't sour the rest before we arrive.

I don't know where else we can go.

I can only remember that night. That mite of a male. _Vermin._

I clench the arm of the seat most of my bulk is barely fitting. I catch myself too late when I hear a soft sound of fabric tearing under my claws.

I will have to add onto the bill before we depart this vessel. My nerves won't allow me to sit idly, especially after what I've learned. I'm too angry, unsettled.

So much more than Lacey realizes. She does not understand. She can't know.

His words still repeat in my mind.

 _"It's not what you think. This isn't about me. I'm not the guy you want."_

 _I had pulled him up by the torn fabric at his throat, already cut into by the points of my fingers from our earlier struggle. "Then tell me, you quivering maggot, what I need to know. Then I will show mercy."_

 _"Please." He trembles, and I snort, the salty scent of his fear, almost too much. "I was only a distraction. They were going to…"_

 _"Who?" I roar, impatient, eager to end it. Only then would Lacey and her family, be safe._

 _"I'm an outer territory fellow, I was blackmailed. I swear. I can't say anything…please."_

 _"Now!"_

 _"You don't understand." The man wheezes now, his face contorting under the wet rivulets rolling down his cheeks. "Look…here…"_

 _He reaches to the pocket at his chest, and I follow his hand with my own, ensuring he is not arming himself._

 _Instead he pulls out his fingers clumsily from the fold, and I see a square of paper. Shiny on the edges. What is this?_

 _He holds it to his chest, fingers opening to me, and I receive it, eyes watching him warily as whatever this is, finds its way into my palm._

 _I glance at the card, and I feel a pulse between my two hearts. It cannot be._

 _A female human with a fluff of yellow mane is holding a small oblong shape in her arms. I know what it is, by the care the woman is using in her grip of it. The bundle is sheltered firmly in her arms, and by her leg, a smaller human boy shows his teeth in a human smile._

 _"My sister, her baby, and my son Milo." The man pleads anew, and I lower the picture to regard him._

 _"You dishonored your family. I hope your son grows into his own without faltering in his path like this father has." I say simply. Unwilling to be sympathetic with this small plea._

 _Most of us have families. We have roots. This matters not. Only an excuse. It's shameful._

 _"I did it for them. Can't you see, you stupid squid." The man almost spits. "Money can't buy me. I got more pride than that…"_

 _"To your point." I say, feeling exhausted in the drop of my mandibles. I already don't like where this talk is going._

 _"I'm his brother."_

 _"Who—"_

 _"Leeson. JACK Leeson."_

 _I knew the details of the investigation. I knew that there was a brother to the murdered man. A coward who had departed to the shadows he had dealt with._

 _"My brother was arrogant. He was taking things he had no right to. Money. Tech. They didn't like it." The man exhaled, a ragged sound. "They told me that if I didn't come here tonight, didn't stage an attack on that woman's home, they would burn them. My family. The only family I have left."_

 _"So you thought to protect them, by attacking an innocent girl?"_

 _"I wasn't going to hurt her. That's not the point." His words fly out quickly, and I can see the panicked look on his face again. "Listen. If you can promise me you can find Luisa and the kids. Keep them safe. I'll help you."_

 _"You can help yourself by telling me who is doing this!" I growl, purposefully flaring the fangs lining my jaws. I'm unwilling to blur the lines I see now. I cannot forsake my mission, Lacey's welfare, because a man has failed his family._

 _He's trembling again, but he does not look away from me. I am surprised to see something resolute there._

 _"You can kill me." He says weakly, "But they will die too. Their blood is on your hands."_

 _Human blood. Red. Like a sun burning low on the horizon. Smelling of copper and peyrlite. I cannot stand the smell of it. I remember the cut on Lacey, her cry of pain, and I'm clear headed again._

 _"It is not my fault. You have killed them by being a weak brother, father." I tell the quivering human. A male's job is to protect his family, to do deeds that place them in favor, keep them nourished. In the old years of the sangheili, when a male failed his community, or his kaidon, his family could be put to death with him. You had to protect your own, sometimes by your own example. If you could not, the failure was yours alone._

 _"I did what I had to!" The man almost screams, and I want to shake him, but I do not. I just watch him, with pity, disgust. He is a quivering sack of flesh that leaks and does not give a straight answer._

 _All I can think of now is the image of the small human male. A son. How could he do this to him? Are humans really so weak? Does this woman not have any other relatives to turn to? Humans are so willing to break apart, deny one another._

 _We are stronger together._

 _"I need a name. This group." I say again, softly. Dangerously. Like a rumble from a storm closing in. I'm losing patience. "Tell me."_

 _"They will know." He pleads again. "I wasn't supposed to tell you any of this! I'm weak. I'm sorry. Please, save them. You can still save them, can't you?"_

 _"Tell me a name."_

 _Suddenly the man shoots up in my grip, and I tighten my claws around his shirt. But he is not struggling with me, he is dying._

 _His eyes are whites, the colors of them drawn back into his head. A fountain of froth pours out from his lips, a hot gush over my fingers and I release him._

 _I step back and watch as he staggers forward, and drops flat to the pavement. His legs flipping around one final time, like a fish out of water, before he is as still as the air around us._

 _"Damn you." I hiss. Mandibles together, teeth cutting. Gnashing out in anger, frustration._

 _He has killed them. For what?_

 _I cannot pretend to understand._

 _I did not expect this. I don't want to accept this._

We had to lie. Lacey could not know. That a man had died outside of her home, a man who was just as afraid as she was, of some unknown predator in the shadows. It would strike fear in a deep place, and she would never let go of it.

The man had a pouch planted within his body, full of a potent poison. A tiny explosion, like something under pressure, nothing he could feel for himself, nothing harmful, until it had released a quick killing agent. His body had slowly failed right in front of me, his system dying with each shock of nerve killing stream.

He was being watched. Someone knew what to do before he revealed the truth of it all. I could not detect them.

I have failed again. I cannot allow myself to fail again. If I cannot keep the shadows clean of them in this city, we must gain ground.

Humans know their worlds, their pathways, but Sanghelios is our hold. We know her waters, her sands, her forests. We build our keeps in her cliffs, at the edge of the crashing sea. The winds howl at our doors, but we howl back.

These humans underestimate me, and that is the last thing they will do. This is my home, _my_ people.

"Kahlo?" There is fear in her voice, and I turn my neck to see Lacey sitting up in her seat, eyes wide. Awake from her short slumber. I see her gaze turned to the viewing port next to us.

"We are here." I say simply.

Already bathed in the golden glow of her aura from the small window.

" _Sanghelios_."

 **Sorry it took so long to get this out! I'm in college, and I'm having a busy semester. Getting my art projects out of the way. I hope you guys liked this chapter, let me know what you think! I appreciate the comments and feedback.**

 **Will be working on one of my smutty stories next. :P**

 **Until next time! :3**


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